


Paper Faces

by somethingvaguetodo



Series: Paper Faces [2]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged Up, Alternate Universe, F/M, Fluff, Identity Reveal, as slow burn as i can manage, lb and cn know each other but adrien and marinette are just meeting, theyre in their early 20s and last year of university, this is just a lot of fluff and identity speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 13:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 26,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15389985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somethingvaguetodo/pseuds/somethingvaguetodo
Summary: Marinette is living her dream working as an intern for Gabriel Fashions. Adrien has always wanted to please his father, so becomes more involved in the company to do so. Thrust together, they start to wonder if it is possible, that after all these years, they have met their superhero partners' civilian identities.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! This is my first multi-fic story for this fandom. It all started over the thought of how entertaining it would be to have these two wondering about each other's identities with every interaction. It somehow spiraled out of control to a ten chapter story. The story alternates between the point of view of both main characters, and is hopefully evenly divided. I'm currently finishing up the last chapter, so I plan on posting one chapter a week. Hope you enjoy!
> 
> The title belongs to a lyric from the song Masquerade from Phantom of the Opera. There is a lot of POTO influence here.

The line of customers in the coffee shop ended just at the door, and Marinette huffed in annoyance. “Late, late, I am so late,” she muttered under her breath. While working as a design intern for Gabriel involved more than fetching coffee on most days, they did have a rotating list of who picks up the team’s morning drinks. She checked her phone, seeing no new messages but the time indicated there was fifteen minutes before she was due at the weekly team meeting. As the line inched forward, Marinette kept her eyes on her phone, idly scrolling through her Instagram feed. 

Without looking up, Marinette took a step forward and accidentally bumped into the woman in front of her. She managed to keep her balance but lost her grip on her phone, sending it flying to the side. She stepped out of the line, squatting down to pick it up. As she was getting up, she crashed directly into someone coming up behind her. 

Her instincts helped her step back quick enough to avoid being splashed by the stranger’s falling coffee, but this time she lost her balance and teetered into the stranger’s space. They reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, steadying her. 

Marinette stared helplessly at the remains of the iced coffee on the ground beside her. “I’m so sorry!” she gushed, “I’m so clumsy. Here let me give you some money for another.” She reached into her oversized tote bag to feel around for her wallet, but was stopped by the stranger’s laughter. 

“That’s not necessary,” the voice was deep and rich, the laughter still evident. “Look, it’s still salvageable.” The man bent down and scooped up the drink while Marinette straightened herself out, running her hands down her skirt to smooth it. He secured the lid and peered into the cup. “I think about half of it is left. That should be enough caffeine to make it through the morning.”

Marinette gave a halfhearted laugh that died as soon as she made eye contact with the man. She was momentarily struck speechless at the sudden rush of familiarity she felt looking at him. Something tickled in the back of her mind, a thought that was just out of reach to grab hold of. She tried as hard as she could, but Marinette was unable to figure it out. Instead, she gave him a quick once over. His blond hair was neatly combed, falling in smooth waves across his forehead. The fringe just touched the tops of his vivid green eyes, which gazed upon her with a warm intensity that sent a sudden shiver up Marinette’s spine. There was a soft smile on his face, the beginnings of a dimple evident in his left cheek. 

The designer in Marinette forced her to tear her eyes away from his face and trail over his clothes. He was dressed casually, in jeans and a T-shirt appropriate for the warm spring day. Despite this, Marinette could tell that the clothes were high end; the distressed wash of his jeans and quality of the black fabric of his shirt could not have been cheap. 

“I…” Marinette realized she had fallen very silent for an extended period of time, and forced herself to speak. “I’m really sorry.” Marinette could have slapped herself; _say something better!_

He laughed again. “No harm done. How about this: next time, you treat me?” He winked at her and smiled. Marinette was once again struck speechless. She could hear her best friend Alya’s voice in her head: _ask for his number, Marinette!_ Instead she gaped at him silently for a moment before opening her mouth to respond.

“Excuse me,” the woman who was on line behind her tapped Marinette on the shoulder. “They’re ready for you.”

“Oh!” Marinette turned to look at the cashier, who was glaring at her for holding up the line. She turned back to the blond man, willing something witty and charming to come out of her mouth. Instead, she managed to squeak out, “They’re ready for me.”

He laughed again, low and happy, and Marinette felt like sighing dramatically, like one of the heroines of her mother’s favorite romance novels. “You shouldn’t keep them waiting, then. See you around.” With that he sent her one last devastating smile and walked away. 

Marinette allowed herself one more second of watching him leave before shaking herself. She rushed to the counter and ordered, ignoring the smirk on the cashier’s face. She checked the time again while waiting for her order. With only five minutes left before she was officially late for work, Marinette knew she had bigger things to worry about than a man. No man was going to distract her from her career, no matter how pretty he may be, or how much he reminded her of… she shook her head again, trying to clear it. 

Ten minutes later, Marinette dashed into the entrance of Gabriel’s headquarters. She flew past the receptionist and juggled the drink carrier in one hand while manically pressing the elevator call button with the other. She checked her reflection in the steel elevator doors while waiting. Her dark hair hung in one sleek sheet that just brushed the tops of her shoulders, which were exposed thanks to the red and white striped off-the-shoulder top she was wearing. A black denim A-line skirt with shiny silver snaps down the front, black tights, and red patent leather oxford pumps completed her look. Working for a design house had many requirements, and one of them was that you always looked glamorous and chic. Marinette jabbed her finger against the button twice more, praying to every deity she could name that the elevator would come quickly. Another requirement was being on time to meetings. 

She darted in the elevator as soon as the door opened and hit the button for her floor. As soon as she was alone, Tikki floated out of her tote bag. “Marinette, what happened back there?” she asked. 

“Back where?” Marinette responded, plucking one of the cups out of the carrier and taking a long sip. 

“In the coffee shop, with that man.”

Marinette sent her a confused look. “You know how I completely spaz out sometimes, Tikki. You’ve known me long enough to expect that.” Marinette gave a little laugh, but Tikki said nothing and just kept watching her. “Actually it was strange, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew him, or at least that I’ve met him before. He reminded me a little of -” She stopped abruptly as the elevator reached its destination, and Tikki disappeared back into the depths of her bag.

The meeting was already underway when Marinette edged her way into the room. Laurent, the team leader, shot her a glare but didn’t say anything. Marinette quietly sat down in the back of the conference table, taking her coffee cup out of the carrier and handing it off to the person to her left for it to be passed along.

She reached into her tote bag and slipped a notebook out, sending a wink to Tikki before turning her attention completely to the meeting and beginning to take notes.

Laurent went through the plans for the week, including the preliminary preparations for Fall Fashion Week. Despite the fact that it was not even summer, the designs had to be ready far in advance of the week itself. Marinette dutifully took notes, working hard to keep her thoughts from wandering. Laurent was not an unreasonable man, but too many late arrivals and she would not be allowed access to all of the design process that she craved to be a part of.

When the meeting died down, Marinette left the room quickly to avoid being reprimanded for her lateness. Noémie, her friend and fellow intern, fell into step with her as she walked down the hall. “You need to work on time management, Marinette.” Noémie attended a different school than Marinette, but the two had hit it off on their first day working together at Gabriel. Despite their easy friendship, they had very different styles. Whereas Marinette favored a more classic look with pops of color, Noémie was often dressed in all black, with a messy grunge style that still managed to be fashionable. Their different tastes helped them to work together well and come up with new and fresh ideas.

Marinette sighed. “I know, but I’ve been doing really well lately.”

“What was it this morning?” Noémie asked. “Another freak hurricane that no one but you was affected by?”

Marinette coughed on the last sip of her coffee. “It could have happened,” she mumbled. “But today was totally legitimate. I was held up at the coffee shop.”

Noémie laughed. “That only ever happens to you.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” Marinette moaned. “This man tripped over me and then I got distracted by him and then the woman on line behind me -”

“Wait a minute,” Noémie interrupted, “you got distracted by a man? Was he hot?”

They reached their shared cubicle space. “That wasn’t the point of the story, but yes, he was.”

“Marinette, darling, if he was indeed hot then you were not nearly late enough.” 

“Very funny,” Marinette responded, throwing herself into her chair and spinning a few times. “Can we go back to making fun of me for my poor time management?”

Noémie took her seat somewhat more gracefully. “I’m just saying it wouldn’t kill you to go on a date. Which reminds me, I have to tell you about Alexandre…”

As Noémie went into detail about her last date, Marinette woke up her computer and logged on to her email. She browsed through the emails from different designers and departments asking for intern assistance, sending quick replies to the projects she was interested in working on. She let Noémie’s voice wash over her, humming in all the right places, but let her mind wander a little. No, it wouldn’t hurt her to go on a date. A few failed dates in lycée and a few more failed dates in uni did nothing to satisfy her mother’s or Alya’s scheming and matchmaking. 

It’s not that there was anything particularly wrong or heinous about the men she went out with, but rather that _someone_ had set the bar ridiculously high when it came to Marinette’s expectations of the men in her life, and none of her dates could meet those. 

Perhaps that was why the man in the coffee shop made her stop. Something about him reminded her of Chat Noir, and she couldn’t shake the immediate feeling that she could trust him. That she knew him somehow. 

She paused in the middle of writing an apology email to Laurent. It was a ridiculous thought, really, that she would just happen to stumble into Chat Noir’s civilian self getting coffee. After all of these years of working side by side, it would almost seem anticlimactic to meet this way. So it couldn’t be possible. But what if it was?

What was she supposed to say to Chat Noir if he asked her next time he saw her? Marinette knew she had to talk to Tikki, but already knew what Tikki would say. _You need to keep your identities secret, Marinette!_

And she had kept her identity secret for the last eight years. But Marinette knew that she wouldn’t be able to lie to Chat Noir’s face if he asked her if that was her in the coffee shop. 

Marinette shook herself as Noémie reached a particularly dramatic part of her story. She would discuss this with Tikki later, but for now she needed to focus. The reality was that the man she met that morning was probably just any other man, and hadn’t given her a second thought after he left her side.

~~~

Adrien swirled the ice cubes in his half-filled cup as he walked down the street. Seeing as he had nowhere to be for a while, he decided to take a walk around the city after leaving the coffee shop. Plagg would surely give him an earful when they were in private, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Not only was he a hopeless romantic, but Adrien also firmly believed in fate, meaning there was a reason he tripped over that particular woman this morning. It was only the third time he saw her at that particular shop, but hadn’t yet worked up the courage to say anything to her.

Maybe the powers of destruction were on his side for once. 

He entered his apartment building, nodding to the doorman and taking a sip of his iced coffee. The moment the elevator doors closed with him alone inside, Plagg zipped out of his hiding spot.

“I can’t believe you made me wake up this early in the morning, just to go get a coffee you don’t even like, so that you could moon over a stranger again.”

“I’m not mooning over a stranger, Plagg,” Adrien corrected, forcing himself to take another sip of the coffee just to prove Plagg wrong. “I spoke to her today.”

“Oh you spoke to her; should I start planning the wedding now?”

“Very funny,” Adrien said, stepping out of the elevator on his floor and checking to make sure no one was around to notice Plagg. The kwami continued without hesitation. 

“It is funny. You’ve been stalking this girl for weeks, and you have no evidence at all that she is Ladybug.”

“Shh!” Adrien hushed him, unlocking his door and waving Plagg inside. “Don’t talk about these things where someone can hear you.” He closed the door behind him, tossing his keys and the bag he carried from the store on the kitchen island before spinning to face his kwami. “I’m also not stalking anyone. I’m just… curious.”

Plagg dove into the paper bag and emerged with a cheese croissant. “Curious. Because the woman has the same hair color as Ladybug, you suddenly think that after all these years, you found her getting coffee.”

“It could happen,” Adrien mumbled. He didn’t want to listen to Plagg tell him how wrong he was, or how he shouldn’t get his hopes up that it was really Ladybug he found getting coffee one morning. “Must you be a spoilsport?”

Plagg swallowed the bite of pastry in his mouth before speaking. “What makes you think she might be Ladybug anyway?”

Adrien sank into one of the barstools lining the island. “It was just one of those feelings. I always imagined that I would recognize Ladybug in an instant if I ever met her out of the mask. That it would hit me like lightning.”

“So that’s what you felt?”

“No, not at all. This was like a tickle in the back of my mind. An itch somewhere just out of reach. You call her a stranger, but she feels familiar, like I have known her for years.”

“Wow, you’re a sap.” 

Adrien gave an embarrassed chuckle, but didn’t dispute it. “How else can you explain this, Plagg?”

Plagg shrugged one tiny shoulder. “Maybe you just have a type.”

“This isn’t about her attractiveness,” Adrien rolled his eyes. “I don’t just feel attracted to this woman, I feel drawn to her.”

Adrien didn’t look at Plagg, because he didn’t think he could handle the pity he would surely see there. Despite the fact that Ladybug had turned him down, gently, a year into their partnership, Adrien never gave up hope that one day she would change her mind. After all, her reasoning had nothing to do with whether or not she was interested in him, but something about responsibility and professionalism and not giving Hawkmoth any ammunition against them. 

As much as he disagreed with her logic, Adrien would never push her to change her mind. Instead, they fell back into the easy friendship that they already had, a friendship that only grew and developed in the eight years they worked together. Adrien felt comfortable calling Ladybug his best friend, and he knew that she returned the sentiment. Their episodes of doubting one another and insecurities had come and gone, and each time their partnership had come out stronger. 

So excuse him for hoping that they could reach the point of being completely open with one another. 

Plagg seemed to sense his reluctance to continue the conversation. “So…” he drew out the word, “since we are up so early, is there anything to do?”

“Hmm…” Adrien took his phone out of his pocket and pulled up his calendar. “Father doesn’t need me to come in until later this week. And I don’t have class until this afternoon. So we have options. What do you think: we could go back to sleep or maybe –”

Adrien stopped himself as the sound of an explosion rocked the building. He grinned. 

“I guess that answers that question for us. Plagg, claws out!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An akuma attack gives our heroes an opportunity to question everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akuma attacks are the worst. I hate writing them. That's probably why I don't like this chapter, and why you aren't going to get much more akumas from this story. Instead, we have some semblance of a plot(?) next chapter and an overabundance of identity questioning. That's the good stuff.
> 
> Side note: Guy is a French name that is pronounced "Gee" with a hard G. It's not my placeholder for a real name.

Céline Babok was not a confrontational woman. She generally got along well with her co-workers, and was always polite. But if Guy did not stop his sexist, misogynistic diatribe soon, she was going to lose it. It was hard enough being a woman in a male dominated field, but Céline had worked hard and kept her eyes on her target, and was now working as an engineer. She got through university and her early internships facing men like Guy, and knew that he would not be the last. 

Normally she would be able to easily ignore Guy and get on with her work, but she was in a particularly bad mood. Her rent was past due, her car needed major repairs to the transmission, and she just went through a rather nasty breakup over the weekend. 

“I understand the struggles that women face, better than most men. I read a statistic recently, that men are four times as likely to interrupt women in a business meeting than women are to interrupt men. I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t see it myself all the time.”

If she weren’t so enraged, Céline would have laughed. How rich coming from a man who never stopped talking. 

“See, Céline, you are a sensible woman. You know when to say your piece and when to keep your mouth shut. We need more women like you.”

Oh, how badly she wanted to yell at him. But it would only look bad for her. 

“Well I ought to be going. The work won’t do itself after all!” Guy laughed at his own joke. “Nice chat, Céline.”

Now alone in her cubicle, Céline slammed her head down against her desk, making contact with her draft pad that she had been working on before being interrupted. Why couldn’t she say something back to him? If there was anyone in the world who needed to learn when to keep their mouth shut, it was Guy. When would she have the chance to make her opinion known, and to finally be heard?

Her anger reached a boiling point, and the suddenly everything was quiet and calm. She was frozen, unmoving, but like she was just waiting for a prompt of what to do next. A soft voice whispered in her ear. “Femme Fatale, I am Hawkmoth. You have spent too long keeping quiet and dealing with the injustices of the world. Now, it is your turn to make yourself known. All I ask in return are Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous.”

“We have a deal, Hawkmoth.”

~~~

Chat Noir caught up with the akuma in the middle of Champs Élysées, where she was hurtling paper ball bombs at passing cars.

“It’s not nice to obstruct traffic like that,” he said casually, leaving against his extended baton. 

The akuma growled at him with more ferocity than he was expecting. “I am so sick of men telling me what to do!”

Chat shrunk his baton down. “Okay, that was totally unexpected, but I understand. May I just point out that Hawkmoth is likely a man and you’re kind of doing what he wants you to do?”

“NO!”

Chat shrugged. “Thought I’d at least try.” He clicked his baton open and called Ladybug. “Hey, bug, your presence is requested at L’Arc de Triomphe. This one seems to be mad at men for existing, so I could use your Lady’s touch.”

With that he hung up and rushed the akuma, landing one blow to the head with his baton before having to duck out of the way of one of her paper bombs. 

“What’s your story, anyway?” he asked as he dodged her attacks. 

“I’m Femme Fatale, and I am sick of keeping quiet while everyone else talks, and talks, and TALKS.” She ripped another page off of her notepad and crumbled it into a ball. “Now I get to make some noise!” She threw the ball at his feet, making him jump back as it exploded. A blue shockwave erupted around him, Chat’s cat ears crying out in protest at the sound. 

“I also get to make some demands. Give me your miraculous!”

Chat laughed, both sets of ears still ringing. “When has it ever been that easy?” He dodged another one of her paper bombs before crouching and leaping up onto the top of L’Arc de Triomphe. Femme Fatale looked around, but apparently didn’t think to look up. Chat paused for a second to catch his breath. 

A thump, and someone landed beside him. “What’s the situation here, Chat?” Ladybug asked. Chat turned to look at her. She looked somewhat frazzled, her hair pulled back into her signature pigtails, her eyes wide. Chat studied her, trying to see something in her features that would identify her as the woman he met that morning. After years of working together, Char Noir was confident in saying that he knew everything about how his Lady looked. Long ago, he had committed to memory the slope of her nose, the way that her eyes crinkled when she laughed, and the light dusting of freckles across her cheeks. He knew the exact shade of blue her eyes were in daylight, in twilight, and in complete darkness. He knew the exact line of where smooth skin turned to magical mask, how her mask moved with the furrowing of her brows or the scrunch of her nose. He just didn’t know what she looked like without the mask on. 

“Chat?” She asked. “Are you okay?” 

Chat shook himself from studying her face. “Fine, M’lady. The akuma is mad at men. I think she’s just aiming on making her presence known with those exploding balls of paper.”

“Hmm…” Ladybug hummed, looking down to the Champs Élysées, where Femme Fatale had apparently given up her search for Chat Noir and was once again targeting cars. Ladybug watched as one of her bombs came into contact with a blue sedan. The ball exploded, creating a shockwave that threatened to shatter their eardrums. Chat screwed his eyes shut and his hands flew up to cover his sensitive cat ears. 

When he opened his eyes again, Ladybug was grinning at him. “You missed something important, chaton,” she said, ruffling his hair. Chat’s ears twitched, adjusting to the quiet. “The explosions don’t destroy anything, they just make noise.”

“Lucky Charm!” She called, sending her yo-yo high up into the air. The light that emerged coalesced into a small rectangular package that fell into Ladybug’s waiting hands. She popped the lid open and dug out a pair of earplugs. Chat watched her fingers closely as she put the plugs in her ears. 

“Here,” she handed him a pair of plugs, and he put them in his own ears. She reached up, standing on her tiptoes, and put another pair into his cat ears. Chat’s breath hitched as her fingers brushed against the ears, carefully securing the plugs. Chat reached up unconsciously, his claws scraping against the surface of her gloves. Surprisingly, Ladybug blushed as she pulled her hands away. “So, the usual?” 

Chat shook himself again, scolding himself for getting so easily distracted by his partner. “Sure thing, LB.”

With that he leapt off the Arc, not waiting to see what Ladybug would do. He knew his role now was to serve as the distraction while Ladybug attacked and destroyed the akumatized item. He landed on the street directly in front of Femme Fatale. 

She screamed. “When are you going to stop getting in my way?”

Chat smirked, “Maybe when you stop trying to cause mayhem.” He extended his baton to the length of a bat and started deflecting the balls she sent his way. He swung repeatedly, sending the balls into cars and trees around them, and the resulting explosions of sound did not impact him nearly as much as they did when his ears were free. 

Ladybug had landed directly behind Femme Fatale, silently and without her knowing. As she ripped another page off of her pad to wad up and throw at Chat, Ladybug threw her yo-yo and trapped Femme Fatale’s left arm, the one holding the pad. Femme Fatale turned abruptly. 

“Ladybug!” she scowled. “What happened to women supporting one another?”

Ladybug laughed. “I’m a feminist too, but I can’t support you attacking my partner.” She pulled the string of her yo-yo taunt and started reeling Femme Fatale in toward her. The akuma fought back, pulling against the string until the two women were engaged in a strange tug-of-war. Chat watched from the side, unsure what Ladybug wanted him to do. 

Femme Fatale seemed to remember that she had a free hand, one that was currently holding one of her exploding balls. She tossed it at Ladybug, who jumped back to avoid being hit and had to release the yo-yo string. 

“Chat, I need to get closer,” Ladybug called to him, throwing her yo-yo again in an attempt to trap the akuma.

“On it,” Chat responded. “Cataclysm!” he cried, activating the power in his right hand. As Ladybug once again engaged Femme Fatale, Chat slid forward on his knees, gliding past the two women and scraping his charged hand against the ground.

The pavement beneath Femme Fatale’s feet cracked, crumbing to pieces and dropping her down to waist height. In her surprise, the akuma stopped fighting Ladybug, who took the opportunity to handspring forward and snatch the pad out of her hand. Ladybug tore it down the center, and a small black and purple butterfly emerged. 

Chat helped pull the now de-transformed victim from the ground as Ladybug purified the akuma and released it. She held out a hand to him, removing her earplugs with the other. Chat quickly removed both pairs, handing them over to Ladybug who tossed them into the sky. As the restorative magic flowed across the area, Chat and Ladybug shared a fist bump. 

He turned to Ladybug, and opened his mouth to speak but she beat him to it. “Sorry, Chat, but I’ve got to run. Someone will notice I’m missing soon. I’ll see you later, okay?”

With that, she snapped her yo-yo and swung out of view. Chat sighed, his hand half raised in farewell. This had been an unanticipated opportunity to see his Lady. While he wasn’t expecting to have a conversation with her until their next patrol, it still hurt to have her run so fast. Heaving one final sigh, he turned back to the akuma victim to help her return to where she needed to be.

~~~

Ladybug landed on the rooftop of Gabriel’s offices a moment before her transformation fell apart. She ducked behind an air conditioning unit as Tikki materialized into her hands.

“I hate akumas in the middle of the work day,” Marinette grumbled, taking a few moments to catch her breath before looking for a way down. 

Tikki laughed. “You also hate akumas in the middle of the night.”

Marinette smiled. “That’s true.” She fell silent, deep in thought. 

“What’s on your mind, Marinette?” Tikki asked. 

Marinette hesitated, unsure how to phrase her thoughts without sounding insane. Tikki always discouraged talk about secret identities, but Marinette felt like she just couldn’t hold it back this time. “If I were to, hypothetically, run into Chat Noir’s civilian form, do you think I would recognize him?”

Tikki did not look as surprised as Marinette was anticipating. “I had a feeling you were going to ask me that after this morning.”

Marinette perked up. “So do you know if that was him?”

Tikki shook her head, and Marinette’s heart sank. “I have no way of knowing any more than you do, Marinette. I just knew that you were thinking it, so I figured you would want to talk about it.”

“And you aren’t discouraging me?” 

“Ruminating isn’t a good thing for you. It’s better to talk it out. Why are you surprised?” Tikki flew forward and perched on Marinette’s shoulder. 

Marinette pushed herself from behind the air conditioning unit and stared toward the perimeter of the roof. “You always hate when I bring up secret identities. I don’t see why this time would be different.”

“Because you are really curious this time.”

“I’ve always been curious,” Marinette whispered, more to herself than Tikki. Despite how much she tried to discourage Chat’s questioning, she had always wanted to know him just as much as he wanted to know her. Only she had Tikki’s discouragement and her own slightly stronger sense of practicality standing in the way. It was dangerous to know each other under the masks, but if they happened to meet outside of costumes, she was starting to think it was more dangerous to not know each other. 

Now she just had to actually convince herself of that. 

“It’s not like I’m sure at all, I just had this strange feeling when I saw that man. Like a pressure in my chest that isn’t quite painful but can’t be ignored.”

Tikki flew off her shoulder to float in front of her. “Maybe you were just attracted to him.”

Marinette shook her head. “I’ve been attracted to people before. You’ve _seen_ me attracted to people before. This was different. If I had to label it, it would be more like longing.” Marinette sighed as she reached the access door. “It’s just, Chat Noir is my best friend, I can’t imagine him as a stranger,” she said quietly, her hand on the doorknob.

“Oh, Marinette,” Tikki landed on her hand, stopping her from opening the door. “No matter what, Chat Noir will never be a stranger to you. Even though you don’t know his name, or what his face looks like under the mask, you know _him_. And he knows you.”

Marinette smiled, and reached out to cuddle Tikki close to her. “Thanks, Tikki, I needed to hear that.” She gave her a small kiss on the top of the head. “Now, let’s hurry, before I get in trouble for not being at my desk.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marinette hears news at work and puts a name to a face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Thanks for the lovely response so far!! Here's chapter 3, unfortunately without Adrien, but don't worry he's coming. This is the last update before my birthday on Saturday!! Love you all!

“Monsieur Agreste would like to speak with you immediately.”

Marinette looked up from the sketch she was embellishing in horror. Gabriel Agreste hardly ever wanted to speak to an intern, let alone send his personal assistant to fetch one. She was definitely getting fired. All the bad excuses and late arrivals combined with leaving for yesterday’s akuma attack did her in. She was getting fired from a job that didn’t even pay her. 

Noémie was looking at her in shock from across the table, but Marinette refused to meet her eye. She would go on to become a world renowned and successful designer, and Marinette would be stuck, blacklisted from the industry all because of Hawkmoth and unfairly attractive men in coffee shops who remind her of her unfairly attractive crime fighting partner.

Gabriel Agreste’s assistant, Natalie, had already left upon delivering her message, and Marinette took her time closing her sketchbook before turning to Noémie. “Best of luck in your future, its been a pleasure knowing you. If I die in there, you keep all my sketchbooks, tell my parents I love them, give Alya my earrings, and make sure all my personalized Jagged Stone memorabilia goes to Chat Noir. He would like them.”

“You aren’t going to die, Marinette. Also I’m keeping at least one of the Jagged Stone T-shirts.”

“Fine, ignore a dying woman’s last request,” Marinette stood sharply and flounced away, her good humor fading as she left. She didn’t know what to expect from Gabriel Agreste’s summons. She had only met him twice - once at her interview and then again on her first day of work. During those two meetings, she had barely had a full conversation with the man. Marinette had idolized his work when she was growing up, and still greatly admired him as a designer, but admittedly knew next to nothing about him as a person. From what she read and heard though, he had a reputation for being tough and not accepting lackluster work from anyone. 

Yep, she was definitely getting fired. 

The ride to the top floor of Gabriel’s headquarters was silent, as Marinette had opted to leave her bag and Tikki behind. She emerged on the penthouse floor and looked around, curious despite her nerves. Underfoot was lush purple carpeting, so thick that the heels of Marinette’s pumps sank an inch. A reception desk sat before the elevators, where a stern faced woman barely acknowledged Marinette’s presence. Two couches and a loveseat filled in a small waiting area. The style of the furniture was minimalistic and modern, all black and white with sleek likes and sharp angles. 

A set of frosted glass doors lay behind the reception desk, to which Marinette assumed was Gabriel’s office. She cautiously approached the woman at the desk. 

“Um, hi!” Marinette started, giving a little wave before grabbing her hand with the other and holding it down. “My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I was told that Monsieur Agreste wanted to see me.” 

The woman stared at her blankly, her expression unchanging. She then pressed a button on her desk that was out of Marinette’s view. After a moment, a man’s voice emerged from what was apparently an intercom. “Send her in.”

“Thank you,” Marinette said when it was apparent the woman wasn’t going to say anything. She stepped around the desk and toward the glass doors. She hesitated for a moment, adjusting her clothes before going in. Today she had opted for a pair of leopard print trousers with a cream colored blouse that tied in a bow at the neck. Immediately, Marinette could identify several flaws with her outfit, as well as at least four other options that were better suited for meeting Gabriel Agreste. But it was too late, and Marinette took a deep breath before pulling one door open. 

She tried to take a good look around the room as she walked in. The left wall was made entirely of windows, a panoramic view of the deuxième arrondissement splayed out before them. The wall opposite the door displayed three large computer screens, all of them dark and displaying the Gabriel logo. Tucked into the far right corner was a tiny design table that was cluttered with sketchpads and drawing materials; it was the only surface in the room that did not sterile and clean. A few frames hung on the right wall, displaying what looked like rough sketches, photos of Gabriel with various celebrities and dignitaries, and a large portrait of a beautiful blonde woman.

Marinette hardly paid any attention to these details, since Gabriel Agreste himself sat behind the large granite desk in the center of the room. His assistant, Nathalie Sancoeur, stood by his side, tablet in hand and her expression inscrutable. 

“Take a seat, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette lowered herself into one of the white leather chairs in front of the desk. Gabriel watched her appraisingly, and Marinette tried not to let her nerves show. 

“I’m sure you are wondering why I called you here.”

Marinette was unsure whether that was a question or not, so she just nodded. 

“I’ve been speaking with the head designers, and they are all very impressed with your work, as am I. I took the liberty of reviewing your portfolio again, the one you submitted with your application. Very nice work, indeed.”

Despite his positive words, Gabriel’s expression remained unchanged, and Marinette was still unsure if she was being complimented or reprimanded. “Um, thank you?” she said, biting her lip at how much it sounded like a question instead of a statement. 

Gabriel waved away her thanks. “What do you think of this brand, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng?”

Marinette started, not expecting the question. “Um, well, I love the brand, Monsieur Agreste.” She paused to take a deep breath. “I’ve always admired your work, and having the chance to be a part of the team that creates designs of your caliber is amazing.”

The answer did not seem to please him. “Have you ever purchased a Gabriel product?”

“Well, most of the products are a little outside of my price range right now.”

Gabriel nodded, apparently more satisfied. “That is an important point. Of course, reducing the price would change the value of the brand. People want to buy haute couture simply for the reason that very few are able to. Cheapening the prices could cheapen the brand. But perhaps another line.”

At that he fell silent, deep in thought. Marinette glanced to Nathalie for guidance, but the woman remained stone faced. She took another deep breath. “Do you mind if I ask what this is for?”

Gabriel’s head snapped up, and he squinted at her through his glasses as if just noticing that she was in the room with him. “Of course not. According to our sales reports, our lowest age demographic is young people, that is, your age demographic. We are simply not as popular as other, comparable brands are with those aged 18 to 35. I am looking to change that.”

“And you want my opinion?” Marinette was shocked, but starting to realize that she was not getting fired after all.

“More than your opinion, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng, I would like you to work on making us more attractive to your peers. I would like you to co-head an initiative, one that will possibly lead to the development of a new, more affordable line, while you are with us this summer. If I am pleased with your work, this may be an opening for a permanent job with the company once you have finished school.”

Marinette stared at him, her mouth slightly open. “Wow. I don’t know what to say. I’m honored.”

“As you should be,” Gabriel responded. “I do not often give my interns such responsibility, but I am relying on the positive feedback I have received about you. I hope you don’t let me down; I do hate to be disappointed.”

“Of course, sir,” Marinette responded, leaning forward in her seat. “I will do my best.”

“You will do better than your best. That is how you succeed in life, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.” He turned to Nathalie. “Nathalie will be setting up your updated schedule, and you will have access to alter it as things progress. I expect weekly reports, and a meeting at the end of this month to notify me of your progress.” Marinette nodded along as he spoke, watching as Nathalie started typing on her tablet. “Do you have any questions for me?”

Marinette thought for a moment. “You mentioned that I was to co-head this initiative? Will I be working with Noémie?”

“Ah,” Gabriel said, returning his full attention to her. “No. While Mlle. Caron has also received positive feedback, her look is a little more at odds with ours than yours is. You are permitted to utilize her advice, but she will not have any official place on the team.” Gabriel steepled his hands and leaned forward. Marinette found herself mimicking his stance unconsciously. “No, you will be working with my son for this project.”

“Your son?”

“Yes, my son, Adrien.” Gabriel glanced at something on the wall, but Marinette refrained from turning as well. “He is close to you in age and will be finishing his studies as well. I wish for him to take a more active role in the company, but unfortunately he does not have a creative eye. You two should make a good team. He will be in tomorrow, you can meet with him then.”

Marinette did not know how to respond to that, but it did not seem like Gabriel was expecting any. He stood, and Marinette rose to meet him. “Thank you for this opportunity, sir,” Marinette reached out her hand for him to shake. 

He shook it. “Good luck, Mlle. Dupain-Cheng.”

Marinette screamed internally all the way back to her desk.

~~~

Marinette lay across her chaise lounge that evening, her head hanging upside down over the edge and a glass of wine resting on the ground beside her. Alya and Noémie sat side by side on Alya’s old blue futon.

“I can’t believe this,” Noémie said for the sixth time since Marinette started her story of Gabriel’s offer. 

“I’m sorry!” Marinette cried pivoting her head so her hair brushed against the floor. “I didn’t think he wouldn’t include you.”

Noémie waved her hand dismissively. “I don’t care about that. I don’t want to work at Gabriel permanently, it’s just a good stepping point. I can’t believe what a chance you have!”

“I can’t believe he’s making you work with his son,” Alya commented, pulling her laptop open. “A rich daddy’s boy? No thank you.”

“Alya, can’t you think about my career for a minute and not about men?” Marinette moaned, wanting another sip of wine but unwilling to move. 

Alya laughed. “Girl, your career is set. Don’t pretend you aren’t going to blow Papa Agreste away and become the next star designer for his label.” Marinette made a noise of protest but didn’t say anything. Alya laughed. “See you can’t even fight it, so now you have to listen to me — Wait, take back everything I said before and look at this.”

Alya spun her computer around, and Marinette could see the upside down picture of a man on the screen. Noémie pulled the screen toward her. “Is that his son? Yes, Marinette, go for the rich daddy’s boy.”

Marinette pushed herself up into a sitting position, squeezing her eyes shut to block out the spots that appeared while she adjusted. “That was a quick change of opinion.”

“Look at the picture, Marinette.”

Marinette opened her eyes and focused in on the screen that was now up close in her face. It took her a few moments of looking at the picture of the blonde man before her eyes lit up in recognition. 

“I know him!”

Alya sat up straight. “Girl, have you been holding out on me?”

Marinette rolled her eyes, silently willing herself to calm down and not make it obvious that she was freaking out. “I ran into him getting coffee the other morning. I didn’t know he was Gabriel Agreste’s son.”

“Wait,” Noémie said, “ _he_ is the hot guy who made you late for team meeting?”

“He made you late?”

“Alya, it was a two minute conversation. I kept apologizing for making him spill his coffee.”

Alya grabbed her computer and spun it around to face her again. “Irrelevant. It was your meet cute.”

Marinette pulled a face at Noémie. “You can’t discourage her once she gets like this.”

“Okay listen to this,” Alya started, reading from her computer. “He used to model for his father’s company when he was a kid, but stopped when he was a teenager. He plays the piano and likes kittens.”

“Are you reading his Tinder bio?” Noémie asked, leaning over to look at the screen.

“No, an old interview with Teen Vogue,” Alya was practically shining with glee. “Marinette look at this,” she spun her computer around again so that Marinette could see the screen. “He’s trying to bake and failing. You could teach him.”

Marinette slid off the chaise and onto the floor, looking at the picture in front of her. Alya and Noémie started bickering about whether or not a verified Instagram account was personal or posed, but Marinette tuned them out. The man in the picture was clearly the same one that she had encountered the day before in the coffee shop. He was standing in an industrial style kitchen, a tall white chef’s hat covering most of his blonde hair, flour streaked across his right cheek, and wearing an apron that read “Where there’s a whisk there’s a way.” He was grinning - his smile so wide that his green eyes were almost closed. In his left hand he held a spatula that we was using to pry a burnt chocolate chip cookie off of a baking tray which was clutched in his oven mitt covered right hand. Marinette didn’t know what to look at first. Her eyes darted from his smile to his eyes to the small amount of hair she could see and down to his right hand, where the oven mitt obscured what could have been a ring on his fourth finger. The resemblance between Adrien Agreste and Chat Noir was uncanny. How hadn’t it been noticed before? He was clearly popular and well known - a quick glance to the side showed her that the picture had almost 150,000 likes and 30,000 comments, and his account was nearing two million followers. 

How had two million people looked at pictures of this man and not thought he looked like Chat Noir?

Maybe she was taking this too far. Maybe Marinette just wanted to find her partner, even though she was loathe to admit it out loud, and was therefore projecting him onto the first blond man who looked in her direction.

She found herself studying his face again, trying to imagine a black mask across his features. Fortunately, Alya mistook her intense scrutiny for simple attraction. 

“Marinette, you can not take your eyes off of him,” Alya laughed, practically doubled over. Marinette hummed, but did not comment. She clicked to the next picture. In this one, he was standing in a ballroom at Le Grand Paris, dressed in a sleek black tuxedo, his hair parted carefully and perfectly combed. The caption read: ‘Père is getting an award!’

Marinette bit her lip. The neat hair made the resemblance falter, but the black suit built it up again. She didn’t know what to think. Alya pulled the computer away from her. 

“Look he fences! Remember in collège when you went out for fencing? You have so much in common!” Alya continued flicking through Adrien’s Instagram. 

Marinette squeezed her eyes shut and wished she was alone so she could talk to Tikki again. Yesterday she had been so uncertain; she had gotten a quick look at a man who was distractingly attractive, and had talked herself into imagining that he might be her best friend. After the akuma fight and seeing Chat Noir, she was hesitant; unable to blend the two men together, she had instead focused her thinking on the mere possibility of finding her partner in his civilian form. Now, with these images of a man – and a name to go along with it - Marinette felt like her world was tilting. Images of blond haired, green eyed men swam through her mind, some wearing masks, others not.

She was in no way prepared for what tomorrow would bring.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette have their first meeting; Ladybug is pensive on patrol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Sunday already! Have another chapter. I have been blown away by the response to the one shots I've been posting, I can only hope some of you are enjoying this story too!!!

Adrien had followed his new ritual of getting an early morning coffee at the same shop, but it turned out to be fruitless, as the woman he was looking for did not make an appearance. Thankfully, he had to be up early anyway, and was spared Plagg’s complaints and jokes about the reason for his new schedule. He made his way slowly to his father’s offices, unsure what he was going there for. For many years, Adrien lived on his father’s schedules; receiving them every morning and following them to the letter. At the height of the craziness, even bathroom breaks had to be penciled in, as there were too many activities listed for Adrien to find time for that himself. 

From a young age, Gabriel had gotten Adrien involved in modeling for the brand. For a while, Adrien had fun with it – as he was homeschooled it was his only chance to be around other kids, and he made the most of it. When his mother disappeared and his father became more withdrawn, modeling began to loose most of its appeal. He no longer wanted to go to shoots only to see the other kids with their parents, some of whom seemed to care about more than just how profitable their kids could be.

Adrien’s rebellious phase began when he was fourteen and was gifted with his miraculous. Unfortunately for him, the rebellion did not get far. His quest for freedom in the form of public school was steadfastly denied, but the exchange was a lighter load in modeling, which slowly phased out as he went through his teenage years. When he applied to university, he told his father that he had done his last photo shoot, which the older man thankfully accepted as long as Adrien was willing to study business in order to take over the company.

Adrien was agreeable to anything that would buy him some freedom from the schedules that ruled his life.

In the end, he managed to move into an apartment closer to school, make some friends that were not father approved, and fit in some electives in subjects he actually wanted to take. All in all, he wasn’t one to complain.

But he also knew that as he was almost finished with his studies, his father would expect him to start working for the company. Knowing that things could be much worse, Adrien found himself again without complaint.

Adrien made his way through the lobby of his father’s building, waving casually to the security guard before going to the elevators. It was not unlike his father to add a meeting to his schedule without letting him know what he wanted to talk about.

He took the elevator to the top floor, quickly peeking in on a sleeping Plagg in his jacket pocket before emerging in front of his father’s secretary. Nathalie was waiting for him. 

“Hey, Nathalie,” he greeted. They had grown to have somewhat of a camaraderie over the years of seeing one another, and she often let him get away with more than his father would have allowed. For that, he would be forever grateful to her. 

Nathalie sent him the slightest hint of a smile. “You are right on time, Adrien,” she said, walking around him and pressing the button for the elevator. Adrien frowned in confusion. 

“Didn’t Père want to speak with me?” 

Nathalie entered the waiting elevator and waved for Adrien to follow her. “Your father is booked in meetings all morning, so he asked me to fill you in on what you need to do.”

Adrien sighed as he followed her into the elevator, slumping against the back wall. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised that his father wouldn’t meet with him personally, but the sting of disappointment never went away.

“You already know all about your father’s desire to make the company more approachable, and expand his demographic to your generation.” Adrien wisely kept his laughter to himself. He had been trying to explain to his father for years that most teenagers and young adults don’t have the kind of money necessary to purchase high-end clothing and accessories, but his father was adamant about not changing the brand’s image. He could only imagine what he had in mind now.

“The last attempt to change that was unsuccessful,” he commented, unable to hold himself back. In a fit of determination, Gabriel had decided that he would gain popularity with the youth demographic if he began embracing their interests. Needless to say, he gave up that endeavor after one afternoon dressed in Jagged Stone merchandise had the reporters at TMZ wondering if he was in the midst of a psychotic break.

Nathalie hid her smile behind her hand. “No, he recognizes that he may not be the best one to come up with new ideas. But he believes that you will be better suited to the job.”

Adrien started in surprise as the elevator stopped. “Me? What do I know about fashion design?”

“Not much,” Nathalie agreed, walking out of the elevator and down the hall of one of the design floors. Adrien waved at Rémy, a familiar face at the reception desk. “Which is why he is pairing you with one of this season’s design interns. He believes that together, you will be able to come up with a plan for a new line that can attract the younger generation.”

Adrien looked at her in confusion. “Is this just busywork? Père has never been serious about starting a new line, especially if it has to be cheaper.”

“He is serious now,” Nathalie stated, coming to stop outside of a conference room. “He is very impressed with Mlle. Dupain-Cheng’s work, and thinks that the two of you will work very well on this together.” Nathalie paused with her hand on the doorknob. “Adrien, he is trying to find someway for you to be involved without feeling suffocated. He knows how much you disliked modeling after a while, and he doesn’t want to drive you away.”

Adrien sighed again, scrubbing a hand down his face. Nathalie was right, this was his father’s way of trying to connect with him. Finding a project that might interest Adrien more than board of director meetings and budget discussions was his attempt to get Adrien more interested in the company. Well, if his father was going to try, then Adrien certainly was going to meet him halfway.

Adrien put on his brightest smile. “Then tell me what he has in mind.” 

Nathalie was never fooled by his smiles. “Mlle. Dupain-Cheng had a meeting with your father yesterday, she should be able to fill you in. All of the information you need will be loaded to your account.” She waved her tablet in front of him by way of explanation. “You know how to reach me if you have questions. Your father is expecting a progress report meeting at the end of the month.”

Adrien nodded, and Nathalie reached forward and squeezed his arm. “Thank you, Adrien, this means a lot.” He watched as she walked away. It didn’t surprise him that Nathalie wanted Adrien and his father to grow closer, but he just hoped they could live up to her expectations.

He opened the door to the conference room and stepped inside. And promptly froze.

There was a woman standing at the far end of the table; sketches, fabric samples, and two tablets were scattered in front of her. She was wearing a solid black jumpsuit, the straps resting off of her shoulders, with a wide white belt cinched at the waist. Her dark hair was perched on her head in a messy bun. She moved with an effortless grace, and her head down as she dug through an oversized white tote bag. 

Nevertheless, Adrien would recognize her anywhere. He had finally spoken to her the day before, and now fate was throwing them together once again.

“Hello,” he croaked out, clearing his throat as she looked up. They made eye contact, and Adrien could swear that time stopped. The air seemed thick between them, the few meters of space that separated their bodies full of an unknown and unspoken tension. He searched her face, unsure of exactly what he was looking for. Her blue eyes were wide and unblinking, and he stared, trying to figure out if they were the exact shade of blue that he had memorized years ago. 

She opened her mouth. “Um, hi,” she said, her voice somewhat breathless. He tried not to imagine why, because it was too easy to come up with a million reasons that had nothing to do with superheroes. “You must be Monsieur Agreste’s son.”

“Please, call me Adrien,” he said, struggling to talk past the lump in his throat. He knew it wasn’t normal to maintain eye contact for this long, but he just couldn’t bring himself to look away. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to mind. “And you are Mlle. Dupain-Cheng?” 

“It’s Marinette,” she said, and Adrien felt his heart beat in time with her name. _Mar-in-ette._

Wow, Plagg was right, he was a sap. 

Adrien shook himself from his stupor and walked into the room, closing the door behind him. “It would appear we’ve met before, haven’t we?” 

If possible, Marinette’s eyes grew even wider. It looked like her mind was running a million miles a minute, and Adrien wished he could know what she was thinking. 

She let out a little giggle, but it sounded forced. “Oh, I never would have… that is I didn’t think… actually –” she cut herself off, reaching for a cup of coffee on the table. “I got this for my new partner, so I guess I actually did get to pay you back.”

She smiled, her hand out and extending the drink to him, not noticing Adrien’s sharp intake of breath at the word _partner_. Or if she did, she hid it well. 

Adrien took the coffee from her, his hand shaking slightly, and had to stop himself from jumping when their fingers brushed. She was still smiling, but it looked a little strained. Adrien blinked a couple times. Regardless of what was going through his mind, he had no idea what she was thinking, and they had a job to do together. 

“Thanks,” he said, “but you didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” she said, taking a seat and gesturing for him to do the same. 

He took a seat, careful to leave space between them so that he could have room to breathe and try and calm down. His heart was still beating wildly, but he needed to focus on the task at hand. He had nothing to go on but his own intuition and her spectacular resemblance to Ladybug - both of which were screaming at him that this woman was his best friend, his partner, _his lady_. But intuition wasn’t enough, and it certainly wasn’t enough of a reason to start a new relationship with a colleague, and hopefully a friend, on a strange and uncomfortable foot.

“So,” he began, speaking slowly to ensure that his voice sounded normal, “Do you know what we are doing here? Because Nathalie gave me a very short description.”

Marinette laughed again, but this time it sounded genuine. “I met with your father yesterday, but I will admit that I was a little dazzled. I might not have gotten the best explanation of what he is looking for except for ideas for how to be more accessible to the younger demographic?”

“That’s about as much as I got,” Adrien confirmed, taking a sip of his coffee. It was loaded with sugar and cream, just the way he liked it. “I guess we will have to figure it out together, huh?”

~~~

Ladybug dropped through the air in free fall, waiting until the very last possible moment to cast her yo-yo and swing up to the rooftops. The rush of adrenaline always helped to clear her head, and she desperately needed it after the day she had. She had barely gotten any sleep the night before, tossing and turning in expectation of meeting Adrien face-to-face, and having to pretend like she didn’t think he was Chat Noir.

She had finally fallen asleep somewhere around three in the morning, only to wake up two hours later and give it up as a useless endeavor. Arriving earlier for work than she ever had, Marinette had made a pit stop at the coffee shop, half of her hoping she would run into Adrien there, and the other half hoping that an akuma attack would put their meeting off until the next day. Not seeing him at the coffee shop, she almost walked out before remembering that she had promised him a coffee next time she saw him.

The actual meeting with Adrien had gone better than expected. As much as she was prepared to see him, she was still shocked to see him walk through the door of the conference room, looking all the world like Chat Noir, and all the world like he knew exactly who she was.

Ladybug slowed to a stop on a rooftop overlooking the south bank of the Seine. If he really was Chat Noir, was he thinking that he knew who she was? 

This was a dangerous path to take, but Ladybug was unable to stop herself from thinking about it. Chat Noir had always been the one who wanted to reveal their identities, so it wouldn’t be so hard to believe that he would look for her at every opportunity. After all, wasn’t she wondering about his identity in the way that she had always denied him?

Tourists in a sightseeing boat were pointing her way. Ladybug waved to them and dove off the building she was standing on, heading for her meeting spot with Chat Noir on the roof of the Palais Garnier.

This was never the way that she imagined their lives going. Almost a decade of saving Paris together and they were best friends, but still knew nothing about who each other was outside of their costumes. Ladybug’s mantra of waiting until Hawkmoth was defeated continued, but they were no closer to figuring out Hawkmoth’s identity now than they were when they were 15, and she couldn’t see how to make it through another decade without knowing who her best friend - her partner - was. 

She had used the word partner with Adrien today, but he didn’t seem to be affected. If he was, he was good at hiding it.

Ladybug was pulled from her reverie by the sound of boots landing on the rooftop beside her. 

“Good evening, m’lady,” he said, coming to stand beside her.

“Hello, chaton,” she murmured, turning to face him. Something in her had been expecting a huge change, to be able to look at him and somehow see Adrien Agreste beneath the mask. That was not the case. He looked the same as he did the last time she had seen him, before she knew the name of the man from the coffee shop and before she had more than a passing conversation with him. His hair was the same shaggy blond, his eyes a startling green. He was smiling at her, seemingly unconcerned with figuring out her identity for the moment. 

“All’s quiet on the western front,” he reported, indicating that his patrol was uneventful. Ladybug hummed in agreement that hers was equally quiet. She walked carefully along the small space on the ledge of the roof. From their vantage point, there was a clear view of the Eiffel Tower on the other side of the Seine, but there was still too much sunlight for the lights to be turned on. 

Chat Noir trailed behind her. He seemed to sense her mood was quiet and didn’t interrupt her. He didn’t speak at all until Ladybug reached the statue of winged Harmony and hopped up to sit on the golden platform. Chat Noir stood before her, their heads almost at the same level. “You’re very pensive today, LB.”

It wasn’t a question. Ladybug swung her legs, careful not to kick him. “I just had an interesting day.” She kept it purposefully vague. “What about you?”

Chat Noir hummed, turning his head away to look past her and over the city. She studied his profile, her eyes locked on the tip of his nose where his mask ended and skin began. “I’d say mine was pretty interesting too.”

Ladybug sighed. He was being just as vague as she was. It was exhausting trying to figure out if you knew your best friend’s identity. 

For a moment, she entertained the thought of just asking him. Coming out and asking if he was Adrien Agreste might be a bit much, but she could ask him what he did today. If he met anyone new. Anyone he might have thought reminded him of her. 

Instead, she poked him with her toes until he turned back to face her. “I was thinking about you a lot today,” she began, tentatively testing the waters. They had had conversations like this in the past, but she was always cautious about what she let slip.

“Really?” he asked, grinning. 

“Yes,” she confirmed. “Just typical stuff. I was in the middle of a… meeting, and I found myself wondering: ‘What is Chat Noir doing right now?’” His smile grew, so she continued. “Maybe he is in a meeting just like this one. Or maybe he is doing something fabulously reckless, like skydiving or taking trapeze lessons.”

Chat Noir laughed, and Ladybug soaked up the sound. “I hate to disappoint you but it was just the first one. I was also in a meeting today.” He seemed hesitant, and Ladybug wondered just what were the odds that they were in the same meeting. He pitched his body forward so that he was leaning over her, his hands supporting his weight by resting on the golden platform on either side of her hips. “I’m not scheduled for trapeze lessons until next Saturday. Care to join me?”

“I’ll have to check my schedule and let you know.”

It was an old joke of theirs, making plans they would never actually carry out. But this time, Ladybug couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if she said yes, to trapeze lessons or to lunch or to the trip to the Riviera he tried to talk her into after they both finished lycée. Or any of the thousands of other ideas he has pitched over the years. What if she arranged to meet him on a street corner, and arrived wearing the red and black sundress she made with him in mind but never wore, only to find him in the Gabriel brand suit and purple tie Adrien had on today. 

Or worse, to find that he wasn’t Adrien at all. 

Her heart was hammering wildly, and she wasn’t ready to find out. Instead, she steered the conversation back to jokes and laughter, and shoved down the hope that he wanted her to meet him on a street corner too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On Google Earth, you can go along the entire roof of the Palais Garnier (toits du Palais Garnier), as well as just about every room inside. I highly recommend it for the full experience, also helps you feel like you are the Phantom of the Opera. ☺


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An akuma interrupts our heroes' leisurely Saturday morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in the process of writing this story, I promised myself to include a scene of every side of the lovesquare, even though it was always going to be predominantly Ladynoir and Adrinette. So here I bring you Ladrien. Let me know what you think!

Marinette managed to avoid Alya’s questions until the weekend, when she realized it would be better to face her head on than continue avoiding her. It wasn’t until they were sitting across from one another at an outdoor cafe for Saturday brunch that Alya fixed her with a smug grin and began.

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Marinette took a sip of ice water to hide her cringe. “I have not. I’ve been busy this week.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Marinette spent the majority of her days at Gabriel headquarters, immersed in meetings about fall fashion week, the autumn/winter line, and the charity fashion show that Gabriel was participating in later that summer. She also had two more meetings with Adrien, which she knew was what Alya really wanted to talk about.

“Meeting with the boss’s son taking up so much of your time?” Alya asked. Marinette knew that she had no way around it, and honestly relished the opportunity to bounce ideas off of her best friend. If only she could get at what was really bothering her about Adrien.

“We’ve only had three meetings, Alya,” Marinette said, trying to decide how much to actually disclose. “Besides, it’s hard to read him. I can’t be sure if he likes me or not.” That also wasn’t a complete lie. While it sometimes felt completely natural to talk to Adrien, and to know exactly what he was going to say next, there were other times when she couldn’t be sure at all what he was thinking. Or times when they were sitting too close together and she couldn’t read the look in his eyes.

“Girl, of course he likes you! What’s not to like?” Alya was always good for validation. “Do you like him? What’s he like?”

Marinette thought about it while the waiter brought their food out. “He’s nice… kind, funny, charming,” she paused to shove a forkful of eggs into her mouth. 

“Gorgeous,” Alya supplemented. 

“Gorgeous,” Marinette acquiesced. “But also thoughtful and intelligent. And caring. You know, he doesn’t really like working in this industry, but he does it because it makes his father happy.”

Alya narrowed her eyes at her. “That was fast.”

“What was?”

Alya laughed. “You like him. I haven’t heard you sing someone’s praises like that in a long time, and never this soon after meeting them.” Marinette considered it. “Don’t even try to deny it, its written all over your face.”

“It doesn’t feel like I just met him,” Marinette said, her voice so soft it was almost a whisper. “I feel like I’ve known him for a long time.”

Because that was the crux of it. Every moment spent in Adrien’s company chipped away at Marinette’s resolve to see him only as a colleague. Every moment of laughter, jokes, and levity, she felt like she was sitting with her best friend. Every moment of serious discussion, quiet thoughtfulness, and strategic planning, she felt like she was sitting with her partner. 

She wished she could just ask him, but throwing aside the careful protection of their identities that she maintained throughout their entire relationship was a big step. She didn’t know which would be worse: asking Chat Noir if he is Adrien, or asking Adrien if he is Chat Noir. What if either of them looked at her like she was crazy? What if she was wrong?

Marinette wished she could talk to Alya about it, but she promised herself long ago that Chat Noir would be the first one to know about her identity. One day, when they defeated Hawkmoth and didn’t have to hide behind masks, she would tell her parents, and she would tell Alya. But whether or not he was Adrien Agreste, Chat Noir was going to find out first. 

The silence had stretched out between them, but Alya didn’t seem to mind. “If you feel that strongly about him, just ask him out. We’re modern women,” she said, cutting up her crêpes. 

Marinette rolled her eyes. “It’s not that simple, Alya.”

“Why not?” Alya insisted. “You like him, he must like you. You two are hot, young, and single. Sounds simple to me.” She took a bite. “It’s not like you would be using him to get to his father,” she spoke through a mouthful of food.

Marinette hadn’t even considered that, but it seemed like a better point of conversation than his possible superhero alter ego. “You can’t just discount that, Alya. Gabriel is showing a lot of faith in me by giving me this project, and pairing me with his son. I don’t think he had it in mind for us to date.”

“What daddy doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” 

Marinette scrunched up her nose at that, but didn’t comment. Alya laughed. 

“How’s the project going anyway?”

Marinette perked up immediately. “Oh, Alya, it’s so exciting! Turns out I had a lot more thoughts about how to make the brand accessible than I originally believed. And Adrien said he wants me to go ahead and design a new line to pitch to his father when we have the planning meeting in two weeks.”

“Your own line?” It seemed that was enough to distract Alya from her matchmaking. “That’s fantastic! I said that you would blow Gabriel Agreste away! You are on the fast track to being his top designer!”

Marinette laughed. “Let’s not get carried away. It’s only a proposal, and -”

Her sentence was cut off by the sound of screams from around the corner. Marinette groaned. Couldn’t Hawkmoth let her have _one_ peaceful Saturday brunch with her best friend?

Alya looked delighted. “This day keeps getting better and better! First the news about your boyfriend, then the fact that you are going to be France’s next top designer, and now an akuma!” She was already standing by the time she finished the sentence.

Marinette paused in her rooting around her purse for money. Tikki looked up at her with wide eyes, wordlessly pleading with her to hurry up. “Akuma attacks are bad things, Alya, you aren’t supposed to get this excited.” Alya was already on her way out to the street. They had an arrangement that Marinette would always finish paying the bill if an akuma attack happened while they were out, so that Alya could get footage for her blog. The irony that Alya wouldn’t get any footage of Ladybug until Marinette finished paying was not lost on Marinette. “And he’s not my boyfriend!” she shouted at Alya’s retreating back.

“Not yet!” Alya called back before she rounded the corner. Marinette ignored the strange looks that the other diners were giving her and finally pulled enough cash out of her bag to cover the cost of the bill. She made her way slowly out of the café. It was a small local place, and while tourists would still scream and run from akuma attacks, Parisians tended to go about their daily business without much concern. Acting lackadaisical about it was the best way for Marinette to get away without arousing suspicion. 

She eventually found a deserted alleyway and soon, Ladybug was swinging through the sky. She followed the sounds of screams, not noticing any major destruction as she traveled. Ladybug finally located the source of the screaming in front of a small art gallery in the huitième. “That’ll teach you to not include me!”

The villain in front of her was dressed in a peculiar outfit that resembled footsie pajamas, but was quite evidently a grown man. In his left hand, he was clutching what was formerly a phone. “Do I want to know?” Ladybug asked, landing on the sidewalk in front of him with her hands on her hips.

“Ladybug!” the villain shouted. “I’m Mr. Lonely, and I have some people to punish. They thought that they could keep me out of their plans! What kind of friends are those?”

Ladybug shrugged. “Bad ones, I suppose, but that doesn’t excuse your behavior.” She made the statement carte blanche, not really sure what his behavior was, but assuming that it was at least semi destructive. 

“You are just as bad as them, ruining my chance to have fun. Give me your miraculous!” Ladybug rolled her eyes. She really wasn’t in much of a mood to entertain Mr. Lonely, and would rather take care of this quickly and get back to her conversation with Alya.

Mr. Lonely lunged at her in an attempt to take her earrings, but Ladybug merely sidestepped and watched as he stumbled past her. He spun around, enraged, and lifted his phone. A jet of pale blue light shot from it, missing Ladybug and striking a couple on the other side of the street. They both fell to the ground, hands clutching their chests. “Do you feel the pain of loneliness? Wallow with me!”

Ladybug sighed. Nothing like the crippling pain of abandonment to start a Saturday. She pulled out her yo-yo and cast it forward, but Mr. Lonely saw her coming and dodged, running past her and into the gates of Parc Monceau, shooting people with his phone as he went. Ladybug took off after him, stepping carefully over the people who had been struck down. The park was busy on a beautiful morning, and the layout of the paths and thick patches of trees made it difficult for Ladybug to determine which way Mr. Lonely had gone. She headed straight into the park, taking a sharp right when she noticed more people that way had sunk to their knees in pain. 

She idly wondered whether Chat Noir was on his way, or if she should give him a call. Unless he was already in the neighborhood, there wasn’t a high likelihood that he would hear about this one until it was over. She hadn’t anticipated seeing him today, but couldn’t fight the strong feeling of glee she had at the thought of seeing him again so soon. 

The path she was on spilled out to a larger one, and Ladybug looked both ways, but there was no sign of Mr. Lonely. A small footbridge was in front of her, connecting to the other side of the pond. She headed toward it, finally deciding to call Chat Noir. She slid her yo-yo open and planted one foot on the bottom stair before suddenly freezing. 

Adrien Agreste was on the other side of the bridge, staring right at her.

~~~

Adrien rarely had the opportunity to have a relaxing morning with his best friend, so he took full advantage of it when he had the chance. He and Nino had met for breakfast at a small café not far from L’Arc de Triomphe. They then made their way from the café, intent to cut through the park on the way to catch a movie in the nearby theatre. Adrien had been updating Nino on the work he was doing for his father.

He stopped talking in the middle of a story about Marinette’s design ideas when he caught sight of Nino’s grin. “What?”

Nino shrugged one shoulder casually. “You do realize you’ve spent the entire time talking about Marinette, right?”

Adrien felt himself turn red. “I have not,” he protested, even though he realized that Nino was probably right. Adrien had always longed to tell his best friend about Ladybug, and in lieu of that he started pouring out all the information he learned about Marinette in the past week of working with her.

“You have, man. How else could I know all about her parents, and what collège she went to, and her lifelong desire to go on a safari?” Nino joked, shoving Adrien’s shoulder playfully. “When do I get to meet her?”

“You don’t if you are going to make fun of me,” Adrien grumbled, but he wasn’t really upset. He found that it was startlingly easy to imagine introducing Marinette to Nino and his other friends, easy to fit Marinette into the space in his life he had reserved for Ladybug. 

After the original uncertainty of their first meeting, Adrien tried hard to push thoughts of Ladybug out of his mind and get to know Marinette as her own person. He was sometimes awkward around new people, but despite their rocky start in the coffee shop, it was easier to get to know Marinette than he anticipated. Unfortunately, getting to know Marinette had done nothing to expel the thoughts of Ladybug. Instead, Adrien found himself fitting pieces of Marinette’s life into Ladybug’s. Marinette’s story about her fencing tryout slotted directly into the time Ladybug begged him to teach her proper fencing technique. Because hearing Ladybug say to him _“i need you to teach me how to touch you”_ was something he would _never_ forget.

“Who’s making fun?” Nino asked as they turned into the park. “I’ve been saying for ages that you need to get over that unhealthy obsession with Ladybug and find a nice, obtainable girl. Just ask Marinette out.”

Adrien sighed. “It’s not that simple, Nino.”

“You’re the one making it more complicated than it needs to be,” Nino said, shaking his head. 

In a way that was true. But he couldn’t just ask Marinette out, and he couldn’t ask Ladybug anything either. On the forefront of Adrien’s mind was the very real possibility that Marinette was not Ladybug, and that in his desperation for his partner, he had managed to tangle two wonderful, individual, women together into one. And Adrien couldn’t see how he could come out of that situation without hurting himself and Marinette.

No, he had to wait until he was more sure, or alternatively, until he was proven wrong, before taking any more steps. If only the universe would give him a sign.

Screams suddenly rang out across the park, and as if summoned by his thoughts, Ladybug appeared on the other side of the bridge that he and Nino were about to cross. 

She froze for a moment, one foot on the bottom step, and her yo-yo gripped tight in her right hand, slid open into the phone position. Behind her mask, her blue eyes grew wide, fixated directly on his face. Time seemed suspended between them, as the sounds of screaming grew distant. 

Adrien felt a ringing in his ears. This was not the first time he had encountered Ladybug while he was a civilian. After all, his father was neither the nicest nor the easiest person to deal with, and therefore there were many akuma victims that either resulted from, or targeted him over the years. However, this was the first time he was seeing her as Adrien since… since he started to believe he knew who she was.

She was considering him, her eyes wide and calculating, darting from his eyes, to his hair, to his hands, and then glancing briefly at Nino beside him. The sight of him seemed to snap her out of her trance.

“There’s an akuma on the loose here, you two should hide,” she said, her tone all business, but her eyes were still watching him carefully. Ladybug took the next few steps up, and he moved to meet her in the center of the bridge.

“I…” Adrien started, not sure really what to say. He wasn’t expecting to see Ladybug today, and definitely wasn’t prepared to meet her as Adrien. Nino dug his elbow into Adrien’s ribs. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

He wasn’t sure what made him say that, knowing perfectly well that it wasn’t often that Ladybug and Chat Noir asked for or accepted help from civilians. However, it was worth it to see the smile on her face. 

“No, thank you, I’ve got it covered.” She tilted her head curiously to one side. “Although I hope Chat Noir comes soon.” Adrien wondered if he was imagining the tiny sparkle in her eye, as if she knew a secret and wasn’t sharing it with him. Could it be possible that she knew? And if she did, did that mean that he was right as well?

He almost asked her, but bit down on his lip to stop the words from tumbling out. He wasn’t sure he would be able to ask her at all, but this definitely was not the time and the place. 

It felt somewhat surreal to be standing here with her, in a park in broad daylight, calmly talking about Chat Noir.

Nino cleared his throat from beside him, and Adrien realized that he had not broken eye contact with Ladybug since she arrived. She hadn’t looked away from him either. “Not to interrupt,” Nino said, his amusement evident in his voice, “but I think we should hide. What’s this akuma doing?”

Ladybug turned to look at Nino. “Making people feel the pain of loneliness.”

Nino shrugged. “Not that much different than my usual, but I’d rather avoid it if possible. C’mon, dude, let’s get out of here.” He started tugging on Adrien’s arm, but Adrien shoved him off. 

“You go ahead, I’ll be right there.”

Nino gave him a funny look, but was already used to his strange evasion techniques when it came to akuma attacks, so he turned around and left anyway. Both Adrien and Ladybug watched him go before turning back to each other. 

“You should go too,” Ladybug said. Her voice was soft and gentle. “What kind of hero would I be if I left someone exposed and defenseless?”

Adrien laughed a little. “I guess you’re right. But you might be surprised - I can take care of myself pretty well.”

Ladybug smiled, and this time he wasn’t imagining the twinkle in her eyes. “I’m sure you can.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien has a productive conversation with his father, and with Marinette. Marinette kisses her partner.

Adrien emerged from the elevator early Monday morning to see his father’s secretary seated at her desk. She sent him a stern glance, but he just smiled. “I made an appointment with him,” he explained, briskly walking past her before she had the opportunity to stop him. He knocked on his father’s door, and Nathalie opened it almost instantaneously. Adrien slipped inside. Gabriel sat at his desk, head resting on one hand and his glasses pushed up on his forehead, intently studying his tablet and paying no attention to Adrien’s entrance.

“Hello, father.” Adrien eased himself into one of the chairs facing his father’s desk.

“Ah, Adrien,” Gabriel finally looked up from his tablet, sliding his glasses into place. “Nice to see you.” 

Adrien resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Wasn’t it nice that he had to make an appointment with his father just so he could see him?

Gabriel didn’t seem to be expecting a response. “How are things going with Mlle. Dupain-Cheng?”

This time, Adrien let out a sigh but answered. It seemed there was never any conversation outside of work with his father. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” He paused when he noticed Gabriel’s shocked face. “No, no, nothing is wrong,” he assured him, “It’s just that Marinette and I were talking about ideas for transforming the brand and together decided that the easiest way to do that was create a whole separate line.” Adrien braced himself for what he was about to say. “I told her that she should go ahead and design a line to pitch to you.”

Gabriel frowned. “Why did you tell her that without talking to me first?”

 _Because this way you can’t say no,_ Adrien considered saying. He didn’t. “I didn’t make her any promises, just said that she should design something for your consideration. You know what she is capable of, and you know that she will offer you something that is actually worthy of your consideration. I know you were considering it anyway. Besides, you should have seen how happy the idea made her…”

He trailed off when he realized what he was saying, and quickly switched to a different tactic. He didn’t miss Nathalie’s smirk.

“I thought you wanted me to take a larger role in the company, and take more responsibility here. Wasn’t that the idea of getting me involved in the first place?”

Gabriel was considering him, his face serious, and Adrien resisted the urge to squirm in his seat. He felt like he was fourteen again, about to be reprimanded.

But instead, his father smiled. “You are right, I did want you to take a larger role in the company. I’m glad to see that you are interested in that role.” Adrien waited on bated breath; nothing was ever this easy with his father. “Mlle. Dupain-Cheng may design a line, and I will be happy to review it. Let’s schedule a meeting for the end of next week, shall we?” He looked toward Nathalie, who immediately began updating the schedule on her tablet. Adrien knew that it wasn’t a lot of time for Marinette to have designs ready for an entire line, but that was part of his father’s intentions. Besides, he had faith that Marinette could handle it. 

“However,” Gabriel began, and Adrien knew this was the condition he was going to have to suffer with for getting what he wanted. “Since you are now so interested in the company, I have a few things that I would like you to do. First, there is a prêt-à-porter formal wear shoot on Wednesday. I suppose you aren’t interested in modeling?” Adrien quickly shook his head. If his father was actually asking, that meant he didn’t expect him to do it. Adrien was not interested in starting modeling again, but could have seen it as his father’s condition for Adrien’s request. “That’s what I expected. Rather, I would like you there to oversee everything, make sure it is running smoothly. I would be there myself, but I have other commitments to attend to.”

Adrien wasn’t sure how true that was, but he understood his father’s intentions. It wouldn’t necessarily be fun having to oversee the photo shoot, and he would have to rearrange his schedule for the day, but he could handle it. 

“Additionally,” Gabriel continued, “There is an event on Friday that I would like for you to attend in my stead. It’s a charity fundraiser; the specific cause escapes me for the moment, but Nathalie will forward you all the details.” Adrien again resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Never mind if he had other plans for Friday night, that never mattered to his father. Not that he had other plans for Friday, but that was beside the point. “It’s at La Chesnaie du Roy, but cocktail attire will suffice. I recommend you bring a date.”

Adrien looked at him in shock. That was new.

Gabriel gave him a look. “Well, it’s either that or be under siege from no less than two dozen young heiresses who are only interested in you for your name and money. I shall leave that decision entirely up to you.”

Actually rolling his eyes that time, Adrien recognized the dismissal for what it was. He rose from his chair. “Let me know how things go at the photo shoot,” Gabriel said, his attention already returned to his tablet. 

Adrien left without answering. While it was disappointing that his father was only interested in speaking to him about business, the meeting went much better than he was expecting. Only being asked to stand in for his father in two instances was far less of a punishment than could have been, and for that Adrien was grateful. 

He quickly made his way to the elevators, taking them to the ground floor to make a trip to the coffee shop around the corner to get drinks for himself and Marinette. He had told her to expect him later this morning, as he was meeting with his father, but at this rate he would only have a half hour with her before he had to leave for class.

It had only been a week, but Adrien already felt like seeing Marinette was the best part of his day. He tried not to compare it to how he felt seeing Ladybug, but it was inevitable. Whether or not they were the same person, both women made him feel light, like he was being filled with helium from the inside out. Adrien thought back to when he was fourteen and first met Ladybug, and how dazzled he was with her vivacity and bravery. He thought of her as superhuman rather than just as a superhero, and it took him a good two years to grow out of that. Fortunately, realizing that she was just as human as he was didn’t ruin the illusion, it only made her more attainable. She was flesh and blood like everyone else; like Adrien himself, like his father, like Nino. Like Marinette.

He was lost, as he often was, in thoughts about Ladybug throughout his entire trip to the coffee shop and back, a cardboard carrier with two drinks gripped in his left hand. He shook himself from his reverie when he reached the door of the conference room he and Marinette met in. He had things to tell her, and this was not about Ladybug. This was about Marinette.

With a grin, he bumped the door open. Marinette was in the same spot she was in the first time he saw her here - at the end of the table, this time leaning over her sketchbook, her pencil moving furiously as she shaded something. She was wearing a flowing mint green sundress decorated with pink and yellow flowers, her hair twisted into one braid and draped over her right shoulder.

“I have news, and most of it is good,” Adrien said by way of greeting. He came close to her to drop off her drink, close enough to catch the slight scent of strawberries that lingered on her skin. She didn’t look up until she finished the part of the sketch she was working on, but when she did, she hit him with a devastating smile.

“Adrien!” She sounded delighted. He hadn’t seen Marinette since Friday morning. Although he did see Ladybug on Saturday during the akuma attack, he tried not to think about that. “How was your meeting with your father?”

Adrien made a face that he was sure she caught, but didn’t comment on it. He hadn’t yet divulged the depth of the complexity of his relationship with his father, but she seemed to grasp the general idea. “The best news is that he accepted the fact that I told you to pitch a line to him.”

He made to continue but was cut off by Marinette throwing her arms around him in a hug. “Adrien, that’s amazing!” she squealed. “I can’t believe this, it’s a dream come true, it’s –”

Adrien had only managed to loosely wrap his arms around her before she jumped away from him. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” She covered her mouth with both hands. “That probably overstepped countless boundaries.”

“And yet, was the best thank you I’ve ever gotten,” Adrien said, smiling at her and trying not to let her see how fast his heart was pounding. “And that includes the Rolex from Donatella Versace.”

Marinette’s cheeks, which were already stained pink, darkened a shade. She muttered something under her breath that he was unable to catch.

“I hate to say anything that might ruin the mood, but you need to have it all ready by next Thursday. He’s already scheduled the meeting.” Marinette’s eyes grew wide, but she nodded.

“Thursday?” she said. “I can do that. I have most of it done already, because I’m using pieces I’ve already designed. I can stay late some nights and work from home.”

“Well, you won’t have me bothering you on Wednesday, so that might help.”

“You aren’t coming?” she asked, tilting her head to the side. Adrien suddenly noticed that they were standing much closer together than usual, and sank down into one of the chairs at the conference table. 

“Part of my punishment for making you promises without telling Father first is that I need to oversee the formalwear shoot on Wednesday afternoon. Which means I should go to the morning session of the macroeconomics lecture since I’ll miss mine.”

Marinette sat back down. “A photo shoot?” she asked, her eyes sparkling. 

Adrien nodded. “They’re long and tedious, but at least I’m not modeling anymore. I think he wanted me to do this one, but wasn’t expecting me to agree.”

Marinette didn’t seem phased by what he said. “I would love to go to a photo shoot.”

“Wait,” Adrien said, “they haven’t sent you to one yet?” He thought it would have been standard practice for an intern to attend photo shoots.

Marinette shook her head. “Noémie has been to a few, but I guess they figured I’m busy with this project and… well, no one offered.” She shrugged, but Adrien could tell that she genuinely wanted to go to one.

“Well that settles it,” he said decisively. “You’ll just have to come with me on Wednesday.” 

“Really?” She was practically radiating happiness, and Adrien wished that she would jump up and hug him again. Instead, she gripped the armrests of her chair so tight that her knuckles turned white. “Are you sure?”

“I’d love for you to be there,” he said sincerely. She smiled warmly at him, and his heart swelled. He knew what he wanted to ask her next, but he felt somewhat like he was choking on his tongue. Was it too soon? Would she think he was strange?

“Um, there is one other thing,” he started, not looking away from her. “Father has also tasked me with going to a charity function on Friday evening. I was wondering if you wanted to come with me.”

He hoped that he sounded nonchalant when he said it, so that it wouldn’t seem like he was desperate or like he would be too devastated if she already had other plans or was completely not interested in coming with him.

If possible, Marinette’s eyes grew even wider. “You mean like a date?” she whispered.

Adrien paused. He had thought about this on the way to get coffee. His father was right about him being uninterested in being chased down by the women who would doubtlessly be at the function. And, regardless of whether or not she was actually Ladybug, Marinette was someone he was genuinely interested in. She was beautiful, funny, and made his heart flutter in a way he hadn’t felt since he was fourteen and falling in love with his partner. There was no one else he would rather be with.

“Er, yeah, but only if you wanted to,” he answered her. Marinette was studying him, her eyes boring into his own. He looked back, unable to turn away. She seemed to be looking for something, searching for an answer to an unspoken question on his face. Finally, she smiled.

“I would love to.” 

Adrien released a sigh of relief, a smile spreading across his own face. “Great, then, it’s a date.”

~~~

Marinette waved to the night guard as she left the office late on Tuesday evening. She had told Adrien that she would be prepared to present her line to Gabriel next Thursday, but underestimated just how much time Wednesday’s photo shoot would take away from her working. Nevertheless, she wouldn’t change her mind about going. A few late days wouldn’t hurt her. Adrien wanted her to come to the photo shoot.

Adrien. She couldn’t help but smile as she stepped out of the building and into the sultry evening air. Adrien had not only invited her to the photo shoot, but he had also asked her out on a date. A date! She had told Alya about it the night before, worried that it was too soon for them to be going out. _Girl, he knows what he wants and he isn’t afraid to get it. I like that,_ Alya had said. Tikki had taken a more practical approach. _Marinette, he likes you and you like him. Don’t overthink everything._

But Marinette was a chronic over-thinker. Still, she tried not to let that ruin this for her. She had not been this excited for a date in a very long time. 

Darkness had fallen, and Marinette pulled her blazer tighter around her to ward off the chill. She hadn’t realized how late it was, and loathe as she was to get on the nearest Metro at this hour, it was the quickest way for her to get home, and preferable to walking alone in the dark.

She suddenly noticed movement on the roof across the street from her and grinned. He did have a solo patrol on Tuesday this week.

“Salut! Chat Noir!” she called, waving in his direction. The shadow turned, and if Marinette squinted she could make out his glowing green eyes. Two heartbeats later, he somersaulted off the roof and landed in front of her.

“Bonsoir, mam’selle. I believe I was called.” He smiled, but something in his eyes was guarded. Marinette wondered if he recognized her. They had worked together to defeat an akuma years ago, and he had rescued her from imminent danger on more than a few occasions, but that was true of many young women in Paris. Rather, she wondered if he could somehow tell that she was Ladybug.

Was he wondering if she was thinking about who he could be under the mask; if he was someone she was speaking to just a few hours ago?

“Yes, I…” she trailed off, unsure of what to say. To be honest, she wasn’t sure what her reason for calling out to him was; maybe she just wanted to see him tonight, or have him see her out of the suit.

He seemed to understand. “It’s a dark night, isn’t it? Don’t tell me you are walking all alone.”

Marinette smiled. Always the gentleman. “I was, but I wouldn’t say no to some company.” She started walking forward, and Chat Noir fell into step next to her, shrinking his baton and storing it behind his back. 

“It would be my honor,” he said seriously. “What kind of hero would I be if I left someone alone and defenseless?”

Marinette stumbled over her own feet, and Chat reached out to steady her with a hand on her shoulder. She was pretty sure she had said something almost exactly the same to Adrien over the weekend, when Ladybug encountered him in the park. She turned to look at Chat, her heart racing. He was smiling at her, a soft gentle smile, and his hand lingered on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice almost a whisper.

“Yes, I’m fine, I… just stumbled.”

His smile grew. “Are you sure you can walk, or do you need me to carry you over the rooftops?”

Marinette almost couldn’t speak over the lump in her throat. Did he know what he was doing to her? “No, I can walk. I’m just clumsy. Besides, I can take care of myself pretty well.”

At that he smirked, winking at her and giving her shoulder one last squeeze before letting go. Instead, he held out his arm for her to grab onto. She slowly slid her hand into the crook of his elbow, returning his light squeeze. Marinette took a deep breath as they began to walk again. The walked together in comfortable silence for a while, and Marinette debated whether or not to try and start conversation. 

Chat Noir seemed happy to just walk. She snuck a glance at his profile, studying his chin, the sharp ridge where his mask ended on the tip of his nose, the curve of his human ears. She blushed and turned away when she realized he was smirking again and could tell that she was staring at him. 

She expected him to say something flirty, but instead he seemed curious. “What are you thinking about?”

Marinette smiled, debating the sanity of her next statement. “You remind me of someone I know, that’s all.” 

Chat seemed amused. “Really?” he asked. “Tell me about him.”

“Well,” she began, not sure what she really wanted to say. “I haven’t known him very long, but he’s… he’s the kind of person who would walk a stranger home just so that she doesn’t have to be alone.” She chanced another glance at him, and he seemed to be considering how to respond.

“Sounds like a good guy,” he finally settled on.

Marinette smiled. “He is.”

They fell back into silence as they continued on their way, Marinette gently nudging him when it was time to turn corners. After a few minutes, they reached her street, and Marinette pulled him to a stop. “This is me,” she said, glancing quickly at her building before turning back to him.

Chat smiled. “I’m glad I ran into you tonight,” he said, but she had the feeling he wanted to say more. Instead of trying to find out what it was, she stretched up on her tiptoes and pressed a light kiss to his cheek.

“So am I, Chat Noir,” she whispered. “Thank you for escorting me home.”

With that she turned, detaching her hand from his arm and dashing to the front door of her building. She glanced back once, to see him standing in the same spot where she left him. In the light of the streetlamp, he looked like he was almost glowing. The soft smile was back on his face, and he gave her a sharp salute, clearly intending to wait until she went inside before he left.

She entered the building, closing the door behind her and resting against it, trying to get her heartbeat down to a normal speed before heading upstairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I a tease? Maybe. Has this been done before? Maybe. Do I care? Absolutely not. 
> 
> It just gets better from here.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette attend a fashion shoot. Ladybug kisses her partner.

Marinette was running late. She had arranged to meet Adrien at La Cartonnerie, the location of the photo shoot, but an akuma on the left bank interrupted her lunch hour, and Laurent needed her to wait for a delivery of fabric samples before leaving. Fortunately, she wasn’t far from the onzième.

She arrived at the venue a few minutes later than she intended to, but still with enough time to spare before anything was scheduled to begin. Since no one was expecting her to be serving any particular function at this event, she should be able to slip in unobtrusively. La Cartonnerie was an old converted artisan’s workshop, filled with blank white walls and large windows. An outdoor courtyard featured small wrought iron tables and chairs and an abundance of greenery. 

The small event space was overrun with Gabriel employees, camera equipment, softboxes and spotlights. A cursory glance around the entranceway told her that Adrien wasn’t there. Marinette reached down, making sure that her Gabriel identification card was properly displayed on the lanyard around her neck. The downside of no one expecting her was the high probability that someone would question what she was doing there.

She squeezed in between a photographer and a production assistant, keeping her head down as she made her way through the room. She had fortunately talked herself out of her wild desire to wear the black and red polka dot dress hanging in the back of her closet and had instead opted for a pair of fitted pale pink pants with white dots and a matching cream colored blouse. The idea was still there, just not as attention grabbing. 

Marinette walked through a narrow room filled with mismatched chairs and empty frames hanging on the wall. She made her way upstairs where she finally spotted Adrien at the far end of a solid white room, talking to Odile, one of the head designers. 

She took advantage of the rare opportunity to observe him without him noticing. He looked professional in a navy blue suit made casual by the open collar and no tie. Despite his grumbling over the past two days, he seemed relaxed and confidently in charge. As usual, he was unfairly attractive. 

Adrien glanced up at the door and made eye contact with her, and Marinette felt her face flush at having been caught. But Adrien just gave her a bright smile and waved her over. 

“You made it!” he exclaimed. For a fleeting moment, Marinette thought he was going to hug her, but he just shoved both hands into his pants’ pockets. “I was getting worried.”

“I’m so sorry,” Marinette gushed, smiling briefly at Odile before focusing her attention on Adrien. “I was stuck helping Laurent and left late.”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “No apology necessary, Marinette. Although,” he gave her a sly smile, “did you get me a coffee?” 

This time she rolled her eyes. “Sorry, _sir_ , I ran out of time.” Adrien chuckled, and Marinette wondered if Odile thought they were crazy or talking in some odd coded language. “Did you remember to eat lunch?”

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “I lost track of time. I’m sure there’s a table somewhere here, I’ll grab something.”

Marinette sighed and pulled a plastic wrapped sandwich from her bag. “Here. It’s egg salad.”

Adrien perked up immediately. “Marinette, you are a lifesaver.” He quickly unwrapped it and took a bite. Odile excused herself and walked away. Adrien and Marinette waited a few moments before dissolving into giggles. 

“Ten euros she tells everyone we’re having an affair,” he said. 

“Ten euros she tells everyone I’m actually your mother,” Marinette countered, reaching up to brush crumbs off his lapel, blushing at the implications of his words. After all, they were going on a date in two days time. 

Adrien stuck his tongue out. “That’s not an image I ever wanted in my mind.” He turned so that he was facing the rest of the room, positioned in such a way that no one would be able to see the way his fingers ghosted over her lower back. “So how excited are you to be here?”

“I’m in awe,” Marinette answered. She tried to take everything in: the hustle of organized chaos, the deep red chaise against the white wall where the first pictures would be taken, the garment bags that were once home to gowns and now lay discarded in a corner. “What am I allowed to put on Instagram?”

Adrien laughed. “Anything that isn’t the clothes.” Marinette pulled her phone out of her bag, winking quickly at Tikki, and took a few pictures of the room. She pressed to turn the camera around to face her, taking a few quick selfies before pulling Adrien down to her height to take them with her. He smiled naturally for the first one, and pulled a silly face for the second one.

“Stop making me look like a fool,” he joked, poking her in the side. “I’m supposed to be in charge here.”

“So go be in charge,” she responded, “I’m not stopping you.”

Adrien’s fingers found her own and gave them a quick squeeze. “I just need to talk to Vincent for a minute. I’ll be back before they start the first pictures.”

Marinette watched him walk away, taking a second to admire him and that fact that affectionate touches felt natural between them, almost like it felt with Chat Noir. She shook herself, using the moment of solitude to quickly post both selfies with Adrien to her account, tagging him and captioning it _M. Agreste is supposed to be in charge here._ Within thirty seconds, Alya liked it and commented a string of winking face emojis. Marinette switched apps, sending Alya a quick text of _don’t you do any work at TV1??_ only to get a rapid response of _i see the kind of work youre doing._ Marinette stuck her tongue out at her phone, as if Alya could see it, and put it back in her bag.

Four models had entered the room while she was distracted by her phone, three women and one man. The man was in an elegant grey three-piece suit, his black hair parted neatly and slicked back. The three women were dressed in drastically different dresses. One wore a short and fitted royal blue dress that almost looked like moving water, the second in a black ankle length dress decorated with two large bows and strings of fake pearls, and the last in a floor length cream gown with dark blue flecks, increasing in frequency as they neared the bottom, with a dramatic cape that cloaked her arms and swirled around her as she walked.

Marinette pulled her sketchbook out of her bag and opened to a blank page, idly sketching out more accessible uses of capes as the models moved around and eventually settled around the chaise.

Adrien drifted back to her side as Vincent began taking pictures. They stood together as the models posed and changed positions according to the photographer’s requests. First the three women reclined together on the couch with the man behind them, then he moved to sit center, the women draped across his limbs. 

Vincent called for a stop after taking a picture of all three women behind the couch, gazing down at the man who posed on it, back against the arm and his feet up on the cushions. The models were ushered out of the room to change clothes, and the rest of the crew members began packing up materials to move to the next location. Marinette turned to Adrien.

“These dresses are just divine!” She knew she was gushing again but couldn’t help it.

Adrien smiled. “I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

“Didn’t you say that your father wanted you to do this shoot?” Adrien’s smile dropped, but Marinette’s only grew. “You mean to tell me the you could have been draped dramatically across that couch and chose not to?”

Marinette was just teasing him, but Adrien took the bait. “Naturally, and I would have been better than all four of them.” He put on a false haughty air and checked to make sure no one was paying attention to him. He dashed over to the chaise and sat down, reclining the same way that the male model had for the last shot, with one arm resting on the top of the couch and his back against the arm. He bent his inner knee and kept the other leg flat against the cushions. Adrien turned to face her with a sultry expression, with his lips parted slightly and his brow furrowed as if he were deep in thought. 

She would never admit it to him, but he did look better than all four of the models.

Marinette pulled her phone out and quickly took a picture of him before he could change his position. He stuck his tongue out when he noticed, shifting so that he was gazing dramatically into the distance before scrunching up his face and crossing his eyes. 

It was such a Chat Noir face, she could almost picture the ears on his head. Marinette burst out laughing. 

“You think that’s funny?” he asked, pretending to be indignant, and rising from the chaise when Marinette’s laughter attracted attention. “I’ll have you know that back in the day, pictures of me like that would have sold thousands of magazines. Not to mention the stunning blue Gabriel suit,” he plucked at the lapel of his jacket, “and millions of bottles of eau de cologne.”

Marinette shrugged. “You just sold me ten bottles of Adrien, the fragrance. And I don’t even know ten men.”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “Don’t remind me of that one. How do you even remember that?” He grinned. “Were you a fan?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, I looked you up. It’s all over the internet.”

He began walking out of the room, and Marinette trailed after him with whispers of _radiant, carefree, dreamy._

The afternoon stretched on, with the models changing clothes and the rest of the crew moving between rooms to take different pictures. The dresses ranged from violet gowns with dramatic hemlines and sweeping structured curves, to delicate blush ball gowns lined with fabric flowers, to stunning crimson dresses that hugged their curves, to golden gowns that were dripping with sequins and beads.

Adrien stayed with her for most of it, pretending to pose after the models moved on and patiently listening while she gushed about patterns and fabric types. The shoot appeared to run smoothly, with only one minor crisis about a necklace not laying properly with the cut of one dress. 

He turned to her when it was all over, and the gowns were zipped into their garment bags and the lighting was being dismantled. “Well, what did you think?”

“It was wonderful, Adrien,” she answered, turning to face him as well. “I don’t know how I could ever thank you for inviting me.”

His smile was sharp, and familiar. “I’m sure you can think of something.”

They were standing in a crowded room, but no one was paying any attention to them. It wouldn’t take much for him to lean down and kiss her, and she would be more than happy to meet him halfway. She wanted him to do something, to initiate something, to say something. She wanted him to ask her to come with him for dinner, or for drinks, or just to come with him anywhere. She was ready to follow.

Instead, he stood still with the same smile on his face, waiting for her to make the first move. Ladybug always did.

“I should get going,” Marinette whispered. “It’s late and I’m supposed to be meeting a friend later.” There was a joint patrol tonight - was he the friend she was meeting?

“Then I guess I’ll see you soon.” His response could have meant tomorrow, or could have meant in three hours on the roof of the Palais Garnier. She was suddenly determined to figure it out.

~~~

Chat Noir raced through his predetermined route around the city, the Palais Garnier in sight. The night was clear, but he didn’t see any signs of red on the rooftop, making it clear that Ladybug was still circling the 17ième. He would beat her to the finish line, but since she hadn’t called him, he wasn’t concerned that she had found trouble.

He wondered if she was thinking about the day the way that he was. He wondered if she had the same afternoon as he did.

All throughout the photo shoot, he had been unable to stop himself from thinking about Ladybug, and Marinette, and how easy it would be if they were one in the same. He knew enough about Ladybug to know that she too would be happy to see scalloped hems and intricate embroidery the way that Marinette was.

Chat used his baton to propel himself to the corner of the roof of the Palais, and then slowly jogged up the stairs that were conveniently placed to help him reach the highest point. He dropped unceremoniously on his back, laying on the flat surface and staring up at the sky. 

He wondered how Ladybug would react if he asked her what she did this afternoon. What if he asked her if her name is Marinette?

Chat noticed the woman in question swing over from his left, and land in front of him. She looked down at him with a smile. 

“You beat me?”

Chat laughed. “It’s a quiet night.”

Ladybug hummed in agreement. Chat patted the concrete to his right, and Ladybug folded herself down to lay beside him. She shifted so that she could rest her head on his shoulder and they both looked up at the sky. 

The silence between them was comfortable, but Chat was restless, and wanted to talk. He thought hard about asking one of his questions, one of the ones that was burning a hole in his tongue. But he always believed in fate, and knew that the pieces would eventually fall into place.

“You know what I love about being Chat Noir?” he finally settled on.

“What?”

“Night vision.” Ladybug laughed. “I’m serious. Without the night vision I can’t see any of the stars that I see now.”

“Wait,” Ladybug turned her head towards him and he imitated her, their faces close. “You can see the stars?”

“Yep,” he responded. “The whole thing. Like there’s no light pollution or smog.”

Ladybug gazed at him with something he could call wonder, but he tried not to. “Wow, now I’m jealous.” She turned to face the sky again and gripped his right arm with both of her hands. “Show them to me?”

Chat gulped before turning away from her profile and back to the sky. “There’s the Milky Way,” he said, sweeping his left hand up over their heads. Ladybug followed its trajectory without actually seeing anything. “Do you see that bright one over there?” He pointed to a particularly prominent star. 

“Yes!”

“That’s Capella, and those two are Castor and Pollux. If you look this way, there’s the Big Dipper.”

Ladybug frowned. “I don’t see it.”

Chat linked their hands together. He reached them up and pointed. “Right here,” he said, tracing out the shape with their joined hands.

“Show me another one,” Ladybug whispered. 

“That’s Regulus,” Chat said, again pointing with their joined hands. “The brightest star in Leo. The closest we get to a cat in space.” Ladybug giggled, and Chat outlined the shape of the constellation. 

“Oh!” Ladybug exclaimed, jerking their hands to the side. “What’s that red one?”

Chat smiled. “Why, that’s Ladybug.”

Ladybug dropped their hands and turned to him with a playful scowl. “I am not a star.” Chat turned to look at her. 

“No, but you outshine them all.”

Ladybug looked at him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Chat felt his heartbeat speed up, worried that he had gone too far this time. It had been a while since he was so obvious about his feelings. Ladybug sat up, hovering over him without taking her eyes off of his face. Very slowly, she leaned down and pressed her lips to his. 

They had kissed before, on a few occasions. Usually it was after a particularly trying and emotional fight, or when Chat did something stupid enough to put him in real danger. It was always initiated by Ladybug. But never before had she kissed him like this, quietly and softly, without fear or adrenaline running through their veins. Chat melted into her, reaching his arm around her waist and pulling her closer. Ladybug raised a hand to his face, gently caressing his cheek in time with the rhythm of their lips. She pulled away with a small smile, her cheeks dusted pink.

Chat was too scared to ask what she meant by it, and what it might mean for them. He smiled back. “The red one is Mars.”

Ladybug’s smile grew until it was more blinding than the stars behind her. She sank down, resting her head on his shoulder again, but this time much closer to him. Chat squeezed her waist. 

With that, he pushed all his questions out of his mind. Thoughts on whether or not she was actually Marinette, on what she really felt for him, on why she kissed him. Instead, he soaked in the feel of her against him, their breath in sync, and resumed pointing out the stars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually wrote that last bit before this entire story, and just needed to use it somewhere. Glad I could fit it in here, as the two of them stargazing is one of my favorite images. 
> 
> Here are nice photo references of what Paris would look like with the stars in the sky:   
> https://goo.gl/images/9juY7K  
> https://goo.gl/images/CfjZQh  
> https://goo.gl/images/S48ZVA


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette go on a date: Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We've reached the date! I hope anyone who went back to school this week had a good start. Mine was neither here nor there, but I suppose that's to be expected with my 20th year of formal education...

Friday rolled around, and Adrien found himself with a rare day off. Marinette wasn’t available to meet with him because she had a seminar at her university, but it was probably for the best. Their meeting the day before had not been the most productive, but was rather filled with an exciting kind of tension that Adrien felt thrumming underneath his skin.

Although he had managed to remain calm during his joint patrol with Ladybug, he fell apart the moment he landed back in his apartment, bothering Plagg with his gripes on Ladybug’s true feelings for him.

By the next morning, Adrien had reached the point of convincing himself that Marinette must be Ladybug, and that she therefore knew that she had kissed him less than 12 hours prior. 

When she didn’t mention anything, simply smiled at him from under her curtain of bangs, Adrien’s heart beat in double time.

No matter how much his every fiber screamed that it was her, he just couldn’t be sure. 

He managed to get through the rest of Thursday in a bit of a daze, and by the time Friday arrived he felt like he was at a breaking point. The string connecting Ladybug and Marinette in his mind was pulled taunt, and with a little more effort it would break. He didn’t know what would be the result when that happened.

Adrien tried to call Nino and talk to him about it in the most vague way possible, but Nino could not understand why Adrien was struggling.

“You’re going out with her tonight, right?” Nino said, his voice muffled. Adrien could picture him balancing the phone on his shoulder as he picked up lunch. 

Adrien hummed in confirmation.

“So talk to her then. I don’t understand the problem here, man. You said she knows that this is a date, not just you being nice to her. Tell her you want her and then kiss her.”

Adrien groaned. Nino didn’t understand. He could never initiate it; it always had to be her. That was their dynamic. “I can’t just tell her that, Nino.”

Nino snorted. “Dude, are you a man or a prepubescent little boy? Adults have honest conversations about their feelings for one another. If she is turned off by the fact that you are telling her how you feel, then she’s not worth it.”

Adrien let Nino’s words cycle through his mind as he went about the rest of his afternoon. He went to the gym and took an intense spin class, hoping the exercise would be enough to clear his mind. It wasn’t. 

Exhausted in both body and mind, Adrien collapsed on his couch. He had about an hour to get ready and go pick up Marinette.

Plagg floated out of the kitchen, a wedge of cheese held tightly between his paws. “Listen, kid, I’m with Nino on this one. I think you need to be honest with her.”

“With who?” Adrien asked, closing his eyes. “Marinette or Ladybug?”

“Both. Either. Does it matter?” 

He considered that. It did matter, but he wasn’t sure what the right answer was. “What does being honest with either one mean anymore, Plagg? Am I supposed to ask Ladybug if she works for Gabriel during the day? Accuse Marinette of kissing me on the roof of the opera? Transform in front of both of them and let them decide what to do?” Adrien rubbed at his closed eyes, making blue spots appear. 

“As Chat Noir, I’ve always followed Ladybug’s lead. Since the very beginning. I want to follow her now, I want her to tell me how we are supposed to do this.” He paused, thoughtful. Even if Ladybug wasn’t Marinette, there was clearly something going on with her too. He didn’t even know what it could be, and was almost too afraid to imagine other possibilities. “She knows that I would have told her my name years ago, all she has to do is ask.”

Plagg sighed, and Adrien opened his eyes to look at him. He had finished his cheese, and was watching Adrien with a sad look on his face. “Adrien, I’m just a kwami. I grant you powers, but I don’t have all the answers to the problems of the world. Especially human emotions.” He landed on Adrien’s outstretched hand. “I don’t understand them myself, but I have dealt with plenty of humans. And I know that the only way to solve these problems is to talk about them.”

Adrien smiled. This was the most serious he had ever seen his kwami. Plagg usually preferred to express his care and concern through sarcastic comments and feigned indifference. Adrien loved it all.

“Thanks, Plagg. That’s really good advice.” Adrien said, slowly rubbing his thumb across Plagg’s head. Plagg allowed it for a second before pushing him away. 

“Yeah, well don’t expect it too often. Now go shower. You complain about the smell of camembert, but no woman will be interested in you if you smell like that.”

Less than an hour later, Adrien leaned against his car, too nervous to sit inside with the driver while they waited outside of Marinette’s building. He wanted to come inside, but Marinette had said it was better to meet her roommate under different circumstances. He wasn’t sure what to make of that, and tried not to read too deeply into its possible meaning.

He fidgeted with this cuffs, resisting the urge to take out his phone and see if he had any new messages. His text to Marinette that he was here had received a _be down in 5_ response, and he was two minutes into waiting.

Adrien straightened up, adjusting his suit. He had chosen an outfit he knew his father would not criticize when he saw the pictures. Solid black suit with a white shirt. He had on a black tie until the minute he left the apartment, when he ran back in to change it to a bright red one, with a matching pocket square. He wasn’t sure what the outcome of tonight would be, but Plagg was right, he needed to start being honest.

The street around him was quieter than he would have expected for Friday evening. The sun had just started to set, elongating the shadows but casting a warm glow on the buildings. Adrien thought back to when he stood here as Chat Noir earlier in the week, watching Marinette disappear behind that nondescript door. 

She emerged just then, stepping out carefully and closing the door behind her before turning to face him. Adrien felt his breath catch. She looked beautiful in a fitted black lace dress, the hem falling at her mid thigh, and sleeves covering most of her arms. A pair of strappy black sandals raised her height by a few inches, but he smiled thinking that she would still be shorter than him. When she turned to him, her curly hair bounced around her shoulders, and she slowly smiled at him, her lips painted crimson. She waved, and Adrien followed the line of her arm to her hand, where she clutched a small red purse.

He smiled back at her. It seemed like maybe, finally, they were on the same wavelength.

~~~

La Chesnaie du Roy was situated on the outskirts of Paris, a wide pavilion with views of the surrounding park. Colored lights illuminated the outdoor space, and as their car approached the checkpoint, Adrien could see the group of people gathered on the patio. Normally, Adrien detested attending these events, where the patrons were there to write off a charitable donation on their taxes rather than to actually support the charity itself. However, seeing Marinette’s awestruck expression as she looked out the window was enough to make him look forward to the rest of the evening.

He stepped out of the car when it came to a stop, crossing to escort Marinette out of her side. Although there was a man with a clipboard checking names, Adrien knew he was recognizable enough that he didn’t need to check in. Marinette clutched his right arm, reminding him of how she held onto Chat Noir earlier in the week. How Ladybug held on to Chat Noir on the rooftop. 

She looked around in awe for a moment before schooling her expression into a more acceptable one of moderate indifference. “Adrien, there are so many famous people here,” she whispered to him out of the corner of her mouth.

Adrien chuckled. “They aren’t that impressive,” he answered. They passed a large sign with the details of the charity they were benefitting tonight. Orphans. Adrien suppressed the dark urge to laugh that his father couldn’t remember a charity meant to help children find families. “See that woman there,” he nodded toward a famous actress in a tight orange dress with a plunging neckline. “Last time I came to one of these events, she got drunk and wound up barefoot in the fountain, trying to drink the water as it drenched her.”

Marinette giggled, and he could feel some of the tension leaving her body. He scanned the room for someone else he knew a funny story about. Unfortunately, he found someone else.

“Brace yourself,” he warned Marinette, “Chloé Bourgeois is headed our way, and she doesn’t look happy.” 

Surprisingly, Marinette rolled her eyes. “I’m used to that.”

“You know her?” Adrien asked. Chloé used to fawn over Ladybug, but it wasn’t reciprocal, and Ladybug always seemed to have a distaste for the heiress. Maybe…

“We went to school together, from école maternelle to the end of lycée. We… didn’t get along very well.” Adrien swallowed his surprise. Chloé used to bother him to convince his father to let him join her in school. If he had managed, would he have met Marinette then? Would they have been in the same classes?

“Adrien!” Chloé trilled upon reaching him, throwing her arms around his neck and planting a kiss on both of his cheeks. “It’s been far too long.”

“Yes, Chloé, it has been a while,” he agreed. They used to see quite a bit of one another, but Chloé began spending more time in New York, and he began to realize that he didn’t need to depend on her for friendship. “I believe you know Marinette,” he said, gesturing to his date.

Chloé frowned, but quickly adjusted her expression. “Marinette Dupain-Cheng,” she said by way of greeting. 

Marinette was smiling slightly. “Salut, Chloé,” she said, leaning forward to kiss both of her cheeks. Adrien couldn’t help but notice how terribly uncomfortable both of them looked. 

“I’ve never seen you at such an event before,” Chloé said as if it didn’t bother her. Marinette bristled, and Adrien could tell that she took the comment as an insult.

“Marinette is here with me,” he said, drawing both of their attention to him. “She works for my father’s company. Actually, she and I have a little side project we are working on together.” Marinette was smiling at him, happy with his explanation. Chloé looked torn. She glanced between them, her eyes lingering on Marinette’s hand tucked into the crook of his elbow. She pursed her lips.

“I was never one for projects,” she finally said. Adrien could tell she wasn’t happy, but knew better than to make a scene here. “We simply have to meet up for lunch soon, Adrikins. I’m going to Saint-Tropez at the end of the month, will you be there?”

Adrien shrugged. “I’ll have to check my social calendar,” he joked, but Chloé seemed to find it a perfectly acceptable answer.

“Wonderful.” She spun on her heel, not acknowledging Marinette, and marched off. 

Marinette laughed. “You know, that was relatively harmless. We haven’t had that civil a conversation since we were ten years old.”

Adrien turned to her. “Why doesn’t she like you?”

It was Marinette’s turn to shrug. “I never figured it out.” She smiled at him. “So, are you going to meet her in Saint-Tropez?”

Adrien was filled with the urge to hug her, but didn’t act on it. “I think Father has a couple meetings scheduled for me at that time. I’ll have to pass.”

Marinette opened her mouth to respond when she was interrupted by a loud scream. 

“Now who’s not on the list?”

A black cloud of smoke emerged from behind them, near where Adrien had spotted the man with the clipboard. He should have known there would be an akuma. The crowd began pushing into the interior room and Adrien ushered Marinette along with him. He needed to figure out a way to slip away and transform, and he wondered if Marinette was thinking about the same thing. 

If she was, she beat him to the punch. “I’m going to go call Alya,” she said, pointing toward a quieter corner of the room. “If she posts it on the Ladyblog, we might get a faster response.” Adrien nodded, not questioning her on why she was going to call her friend instead of text her. She began to step away, but Adrien reached out and grabbed both of her hands, squeezing them once. 

“Stay safe.” He wanted to say something more but the words failed him. She seemed to understand.

“You too.”

He watched her go for a few moments, before turning around and heading in the other direction. He quickly slid out of an employee exit to an empty courtyard, and transformed. A moment later he vaulted to the roof, leaning over the curved edges for a better view. 

Black smoke completely obscured the outdoor pavilion, but Chat could make out the outline of the akuma, a woman with a glittering gold aura. Based on her earlier exclamation, he guessed she was a jilted party goer, but he really didn’t care about her motives or her abilities. This wasn’t supposed to be how the night went.

He was about to drop down from the roof when Ladybug landed beside him. 

“Can we do this quickly?” she asked. He glanced at her. A frown marred her face. Her transformation always kept her hair in two pigtails, but today her lips were crimson.

Chat grinned, feeling almost triumphant. “Why, m’lady, do you have somewhere to be?”

“As a matter of fact,” she said, unhooking her yo-yo and swinging it in a wide circle, “I do. I was having a perfectly lovely evening before it was interrupted.”

“So was I,” Chat responded, and she sent him a curious look. He smiled and extended a hand. “After you.”

Ladybug jumped from the roof, using her yo-yo to swing across the darkened pavilion before landing in front of the villain. Chat followed at a more leisurely pace. He allowed Ladybug to engage the akuma, while he crept along. His night vision enabled him to see through the smoke with ease, and he knew that to make this faster he would be the one to single out the akumatized object. 

Ladybug seemed ferocious, aggravated that she had to be doing this tonight. Her yo-yo wrapped around the villain, forcing her to stumble. Chat noticed the paper clutched in her hand and realized that must be it - either an invitation or a notice about the event. 

“Left hand,” he called to Ladybug, and then he lowered his head and charged forward. With his baton out before him, he struck toward the villain’s right side, forcing her to block him there and neglect her left side. Ladybug, squinting through the darkness, managed to dart in and grab the paper, neatly tearing it in two.

It was one of their fastest fights, and Chat couldn’t help but smile as he watched Ladybug cleanse and release the akuma. She walked toward him as the smoke lifted. “Bien joué,” they bumped fists. 

“Must be some party here if she was that upset not to be admitted,” Chat said, leaning on his extended baton.

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “Not that impressive,” she said. Then she winked at him. “I would normally love to stay, chaton, but I have someone waiting for me.”

“So do I,” he said. They waited for a moment, smiling at one another. It felt like a game, but Chat couldn’t tell who was going to win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The night's not over yet... Marinette's turn next!!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien and Marinette go on a date: Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this satisfies you. I'm expecting tons of comments. ;)

This was not how Marinette expected her evening to go.

As she made her way back through the crowds after the akuma attack, searching for Adrien, Marinette cursed Hawkmoth and any higher power that allowed him to constantly ruin her plans. Although, she had to admit, unexpectedly seeing Chat Noir was not a bad thing. But it certainly didn’t put any of her confusion to rest.

The past few days had been difficult. Between the photo shoot on Wednesday and the patrol that evening, Marinette felt like she was being pulled between two men, unless she gave in to her traitorous heart and believed it was just one man. She had kissed Chat that night, in a way she never had before, and she wanted him to question it. She needed him to push her, to force her hand and make her tell him what was going on. But he hadn’t, and she woke on Friday morning in more turmoil than ever before.

She barely remembered what happened in her seminar, and spent the rest of the afternoon with Alya preparing for the affair.

“Eh,” Alya vetoed the pale pink dress with the sweetheart neckline and flouncy skirt that Marinette was modeling. “It doesn’t scream sexy.”

“I wasn’t aiming to scream sexy,” Marinette assured her, but nevertheless moved to change into the next option.

Alya sighed. “You should always be aiming for sexy. I say go for the black one.” 

“What about this?” Marinette emerged from behind her closet door in a turquoise pleated dress and gave a twirl. 

“I love it. Wear it to Ella and Etta’s birthday party.” Alya grabbed the black dress laying on Marinette’s bed. “Tonight you are wearing this.”

Marinette grumbled but pulled off the dress she had on and reached out a hand for the black one. “Don’t you think its a little too tight?” she asked, looking in the mirror.

Alya came up behind her. “You made that dress to fit your measurements, girl, so don’t try to convince me that it isn’t right for you. Now,” she crossed the room and pulled open the top drawer of the dresser. “Where is that matching black lingerie set I bought for you?”

Marinette spluttered as a black bra sailed through the air toward her. She caught it in one hand. “Alya, I’m comfortable, why do I need to wear this?”

“Because Adrien does not want to see those old Chat Noir panties you have on.” Marinette flushed, but found herself hoping that Alya was wrong in that assessment. 

“Alya! It’s our first date!”

Alya rolled her eyes. “Okay, fine, do it for yourself. Nothing gives a woman more confidence than matching underwear, particularly black ones.” Marinette couldn’t disagree with her. “Also, which bag? This one?” Alya picked up a small black clutch with silver trim.

“No,” Marinette reached into her closet and pulled out her red one. “This one.”

Alya frowned. “Not all black?”

“Red’s a power color.”

“Very true.”

Alya hovered while she got ready, watching her curl her hair and apply mascara to the point where Marinette started to shake. She had to banish Alya from the room while she finished.

Tikki took her place. 

“Marinette, there is no reason to get all worked up about this, it’s just a date. You’ve been on dates before.” Marinette rooted around her makeup bag, looking for the right shade of red lipstick.

“Is it just a date? Or am I going out with Chat Noir tonight? Or am I overthinking this? Tikki, tell me I’m overthinking it.”

“You are definitely overthinking it,” Tikki said, landing on the table in front of Marinette’s mirror. “But no matter what happens tonight, I think that you and Chat Noir have to have a conversation.” 

Marinette looked at her, puzzled. “I thought keeping our identities secret was paramount.”

Tikki blinked at her slowly, her antennae drooping. “There are more important things, Marinette. I’m not telling you to scream your name to him the next time you see him, but I know that the good relationship you two have is built on trust. All of this questioning and second guessing can ruin the foundation that you have built.” She must have noticed Marinette’s terrified face. “That doesn’t mean this is a bad thing, Marinette. But you can’t go on forever wondering if you have found Chat Noir, but never talking to him about it.”

Marinette started to understand what Tikki was saying. And when she saw Adrien waiting for her outside, looking dapper in his outfit of black and red, she thought she understood a little better. But the hesitation remained. Was she digging for meaning that wasn’t there? Or had she just been blind for so long that finally seeing the truth was disorienting?

She finally spotted Adrien in his black and red standing close to an employee exit. As she walked toward him, she wondered if he would give her an excuse, an explanation as to where he was. If he asked for one from her, what would she even say?

Thankfully, she didn’t have to deal with that.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, hugging her quickly. “At least that was a quick one.”

They were almost immediately interrupted by a friend of Adrien’s father, followed by a model he used to work with, and then the daughter of a wealthy investor who looked even less pleased with Marinette’s presence than Chloé had. After that it was a whirlwind of introductions. Business associates, acquaintances, more women that looked like they would be happy to murder her. She couldn’t really blame them, though. Marinette snuck a glance at Adrien just as he snuck a glance at her. Her date really was gorgeous.

Marinette quickly learned that events like these were for social and networking purposes, and that Adrien appeared to be one of the only people genuinely interested in the charity. He brought it up with every person they spoke with, talking about the orphans as if he knew them personally, and Marinette couldn’t help but imagine Chat Noir going out of his way to interact with every child they came across.

The end of the night found them back outside of her apartment building, Adrien’s driver parked further up the street. Adrien smiled at her, at ease, but Marinette found herself suddenly very nervous.

She searched for something to say. “It’s cloudy tonight.” She silently berated herself for saying the worst thing possible.

Adrien didn’t seem to mind. He tilted his head back to look at the sky. “You’re right,” he said. She shifted her focus from the sky to the way the muscles and tendons in his exposed neck moved when he talked. “You can barely see the moon, let alone the Big Dipper.”

Marinette felt like her heart was slamming against her ribcage. “I’ve never been any good at seeing the constellations.”

Adrien looked back at her. His eyes were bright and mischievous. “I’d be happy to show you some time. We can go to the planetarium at Cité des Sciences et de l'Industrie.”

She kissed him then, pushing up on her toes to reach better. He didn’t hesitate, wrapping one hand tight around her waist, pulling her closer, while the other hand buried itself in her hair. It was so easy to lose herself in him. The feel of his hair beneath her fingers, the feel of his lips moving against hers, the feel of his heartbeat in time with her own. She had been expecting fireworks, something bright and magical. But instead she felt warmth spreading from every point of contact between their bodies, like the flame on a candle that never really burns out. It filled her, curling through her veins like the fog of an early morning, until it touched every last corner. Kissing him felt like coming home. Kissing him felt like Chat. 

She pulled away with a gasp when she realized all that was missing was the feel of leather against her arms. When she realized she had been picturing that the man in her arms wore a mask. 

Adrien’s eyes were still closed, a small smile on his face. Marinette hated it; she didn’t want the reprieve from his gaze. But when they fluttered open it was even worse. His eyes were bright and warm, but she could imagine they held a question for her. The one question she desperately wanted him to ask. _It’s me, chaton. Please tell me it’s you._

But he didn’t ask. He trailed his fingers along her cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“I don’t want this night to end,” Marinette whispered, afraid that if she spoke too loudly it would ruin the moment. 

“It doesn’t have to,” Adrien murmured, leaning forward and capturing her lips again. She kissed him back happily for a few moments before reluctantly breaking away. 

She pulled back just enough to speak. “I promised my parents I would help them in the bakery tomorrow,” she said, purposefully misunderstanding his intention. She kissed him quickly before he was able to respond. The hand on her back drifted lower, his fingers digging into the small of her back as he drew her closer. 

He smiled. “Your father owns the place, you’re allowed to be late.”

“I’m not,” she said, rubbing her nose against his. He laughed, and it was an achingly familiar sound. 

“So go ahead,” he said, making no move to loosen his grip on her. “I’ll see you soon enough.”

Marinette finally pulled herself away and walked to her door, unlocking it while forcing herself not to look back at him. When she closed the door behind her, she caught a glimpse of him, glowing faintly in the streetlight, a smile still on his face. She shut the door tight before she could run back to him. 

Her trip up to her apartment was in a daze. Her post-date happiness was clouded with questions, the desperation to know if her hunch was correct clawing at her like a monster that needed to be set free. 

Alya was waiting for her on the fainting couch. “How did it go?”

“Not tonight, Alya.”

She sat up straight. “It was that bad?”

Marinette shook her head. “It was good. Very good. But I don’t want to talk tonight. I’ll tell you everything in the morning.” She didn’t wait for a response before retreating to her room, locking the door behind her. She paused long enough to kick off her shoes before collapsing facedown on the bed. 

Adrien was everything she had been looking for. He was charming, attractive, funny, and incredibly kind. He met the bar she had set so many years ago. But the possibility that he wasn’t Chat Noir was almost too much to bear. 

She felt like screaming and crying at the same time. She felt like laughing but the happiness was just a little out of reach. She felt like there was an itch under her skin, one that she desperately needed to scratch. She felt like she was standing in a hurricane of thoughts, one that could be quieted with one simple answer. 

She needed to run. 

Ladybug was out the window in the next breath, her yo-yo attached to Madame Morel’s weathervane on the roof across the street. She pulled herself onto the rooftops, running as fast as her legs could carry her. She flew through the air almost recklessly, if only to quiet her mind, but the peace she sought wasn’t there. 

She barely paid attention to where she was until the Palais Garnier came into view. A small black figure on the roof caused her heart to stop and restart again, and she nearly crashed into him in her haste. 

“Chaton,” she breathed, stumbling forward until he caught her arms, the prickle of his claws the feeling she had been searching for all night. 

He looked at her in awe. “M’lady, you have perfect timing.”

“Chaton, wait, I need to ask you something.” The words poured out of her. No matter how many times in the past she had tried to deny it, she couldn’t stop herself now for all the miraculous in the world. “I met this man. And he is wonderful, perfect even. And I could fall in love with him, so very easily. But there’s one problem.”

“What?” Chat whispered, his expression unreadable. 

“I’m already in love with you.” His mouth opened, but she cut him off before he could speak. “And as much as I think he is you – or you are him – I’m not sure, and I just can’t stand it anymo-”

He kissed her before she could finish, his arms tight around her. She reciprocated without question, kissing him back with bruising intensity. As they pulled each other closer and their lips moved in tandem, Ladybug’s heart sighed. She barely needed the answer now, so sure of what it would be, but she also needed to know as much as she needed air to breathe. 

As always, Chat Noir seemed to know her thoughts without her saying them. She felt his transformation wash away beneath her hands, the wave of magic dull in comparison to the feeling inside her. She felt the collar of a suit beneath her hand, the knot of a tie where his bell used to be.

They separated, panting slightly, but Ladybug kept her eyes shut as she rested her forehead against his. “I’m scared,” she whispered. 

“Don’t be,” his voice was reassuring in how much he sounded like her partner. It was as if he has been telling her a joke all this time, and was about to let her in on the punchline. “Open your eyes, Marinette.”

“Adrien.”

She opened her eyes to see his face, his grin so wide she could barely see the vivid green of his eyes. She could tell he had taken a risk using her name, as he was no more confident of her identity than she was of his. She released her transformation, her bare feet scraping against the concrete but she didn’t care. 

They stood together for a moment, looking into each other’s eyes. No words needed to be exchanged, for they finally understood each other perfectly. There would be questions and explanations to come, but at the moment the only question that mattered had been answered. 

“I’m in love with you too, Ladybug,” he broke the silence. “Have been since we were fourteen.” 

They moved at the same time, kissing fiercely, wrapping themselves together, neither one able to get as close as they wanted. Marinette clawed at him, her hands dancing from his hair to the lapels of his jacket to his tie, which she pulled on and began to loosen. Adrien broke from her mouth and started trailing his lips down her neck. 

Marinette whimpered, tugging on his hair as he began to suck on her pulse point. After a minute she dragged his face up to be level with her own. 

“Maybe I can be late tomorrow morning.”

Adrien kissed her instead of answering.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No more questions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thanks for the great response to the last chapter!! I'm so glad that you all enjoyed it, and I had a great time writing and sharing this story with everyone. Although the story really ended with that reveal, I wanted to give another conclusion, so I slapped together this little ending. It's not my favorite, but it gives our heroes something to work with and leaves it open for more. Thanks for going on this journey with me! Love you all!!!!!

Marinette sat on one of the couches outside Gabriel’s office, fidgeting with the portfolio in her lap. By the fifth time she swung the cover open, Adrien’s hand intercepted and firmly held it shut.

“Try to calm down,” he said softly. “He can smell fear.”

“That makes me feel better.” 

Adrien laughed as he gripped her hand, letting their clasped hands rest against the cover of her portfolio. Marinette shot a furtive glance at the secretary to see if she was looking. 

“Don’t worry, Eloise is very discrete,” he muttered. 

Marinette moaned. “And what happens when she tells your father and I get fired for having an inappropriate relationship with a superior before I even have the chance to show him my sketches?” He voice raised to a panicked squeak by the end of her rant, but she leaned into Adrien’s side despite her protest. 

Adrien had the audacity to laugh again. “First, I’m not your superior. And if Father thinks I am, then I’ll quit. Second, we have to tell him eventually. Preferably before I do something reckless like propose.”

“I want to tell him. Just not like this.” Marinette paused to flick him on the nose. “And I told you, you aren’t allowed to propose to me. We met two weeks ago, remember?”

It was a difficult balance that they needed to find. To their friends and family, they had only known each other for less than a fortnight. In reality, they had been best friends for the past eight years, and were therefore more comfortable and familiar with one another than most people would expect. 

Nathalie emerged from Gabriel’s office, and Marinette quickly dropped Adrien’s hand and sat up straight. She could see the disappointment on his face but couldn’t help it. She needed to appear serious and professional here; she needed Gabriel to take her seriously.

“You may both come in,” Nathalie said.

Adrien stood and gestured for Marinette to walk ahead of him. She gripped her portfolio, checking the floor quickly to make sure nothing fell out, and walked into Gabriel’s office, her head held high. 

Gabriel was sitting at his desk, his eyes focused on them as they entered the room. Marinette’s heart was racing. His cool grey gaze felt like an x-ray to her soul, and she was sure he knew immediately about her and Adrien. Maybe Odile had said mentioned they way they were bantering at the photoshoot last week. Or Noémie had said something to the wrong person. Or Laurent had _actually_ walked in on them in the conference room on Tuesday even though they thought it had just been a close call. 

Adrien’s comforting presence behind her, along with the fact that Gabriel did not immediately fire her, helped to calm her down.

“Mlle. Dupain-Cheng. Adrien.” Gabriel inclined his head to each of them, and gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. Marinette took her seat. “I believe you have some sketches to show me.”

Marinette had the feeling that Gabriel knew more than he was letting on, but seeing as he was getting right to business, she was happy to follow him. She opened her portfolio, talking him through her ideas for the new line, trying to get some sense of his feelings despite his stoic facade. Adrien stayed quiet, watching from his seat beside her. 

She finished the presentation that she had prepared, settling back slightly in her seat as Gabriel continued pouring over her designs. Adrien’s hand twitched slightly, as if he wanted to reach out to her, but seemed to think better of it and didn’t move. 

“Adrien, what do you think?” Gabriel said.

Adrien cleared his throat, glancing between them. “I think that all of Marinette’s designs are great. They fit the brand that you created while bringing in a more modern, accessible feel. It’s not haute couture, but still has some of that high-end feel. From a business standpoint, we talked about having lower prices, and a marketing campaign that is targeted toward the average young adult, rather than to the elite.”

Gabriel was nodding along, which Marinette took as a good sign. “You both clearly put a lot of good effort into this. Those hours together were productive, I see.”

Marinette froze, but Gabriel continued. “I’m intrigued. I have a few edits that I would like to make, and then I expect samples to be ready for me by the end of the month. If we are doing this, I want to launch an announcement over the summer, so we need to get to work now.” Marinette nodded frantically, willing to agree to everything he said. 

After discussing a few more points, he dismissed them, and Marinette held her breath until the elevator doors closed around them. Then, she let out a high pitched squeal.

“He liked it!” She threw her arms around Adrien, and he immediately pulled her in for a hug.

“I knew he would,” he muttered. “You were amazing.”

Marinette tilted her head up, looking into his eyes. “Thanks for backing me up, chaton.”

Adrien kissed her quickly. “I wasn’t just saying any of that. You really are that talented, and you know it.”

Marinette squealed instead of answering him, burying her face in his chest. Adrien laughed, the vibration rumbling through his body so that she could feel it. Marinette realized with startling clarity that she was happy – truly happy – and couldn’t remember the last time she felt that way. 

The elevator stopped at their floor and they sprang apart, ready in case anyone was there when the doors opened. Laurent had already told her he needed help when she returned from her meeting with Gabriel, and Odile wanted to go over pattern samples. She parted ways with Adrien at the elevator, knowing that she would see him soon anyway.

Thoughts of the last week filled Marinette’s head as she went through the motions of the rest of the afternoon. The weekend had been somewhat surreal – after years of wondering and wishing and being utterly terrified of revealing her identity, and learning her partner’s identity, she finally had all of the information. And she could not understand what took her so long to give in.

Knowing that Chat Noir was Adrien was nice. She had spent years wondering what Chat was doing during the day, which arrondissement he lived in, what he ate for breakfast. Now she knew the answers to those questions. 

But knowing that Adrien was Chat Noir was even better. Knowing that she would see Chat at their morning meetings - out of costume and bringing coffee - or that she could text him at all hours, or that the man who sent her DMs of stupid memes on Instagram was her partner made it all better. 

The relief at knowing all of her questioning of whether or not they were the same person wasn’t insane was nice too. 

Alya was demanding to meet him, and according to Adrien, his best friend wanted to meet her as well. They organized a brunch for the four of them this weekend. Marinette hoped that having another person there as a buffer would distract Alya from the intense interrogation she had planned.

There was still so much they had to figure out. Meeting families and other friends, how to balance their new relationship in the context of their longstanding one, how to be partners in every sense of the world. But Marinette had complete faith that together, they would be able to handle anything.

The end of the work day snuck up on Marinette, and she resolved to be more focused starting the next week. After all, no man was going to distract her from her career goals. Just as she left the building, thoughts now occupied by what to eat for dinner, screams echoed from the direction of the Seine. 

Marinette darted into the closest side street, glancing around to make sure there was no one around. She shared a quick grin with Tikki before transforming and swinging up to the rooftops. 

Her partner landed beside her as she ran along the roofs on Rue du Louvre. “Fancy seeing you here, bugaboo.”

Ladybug grinned. She glanced at Chat, bathed in the golden light of the late afternoon sun. His smile was wide, his eyes glowing with happiness. The screams were getting louder as they neared in on the akuma, but Ladybug didn’t pay them any mind. They would defeat the villain just like every one before that. After all, just like figuring out their new relationship, Ladybug and Chat Noir could handle anything as long as they were together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are still questions left unanswered here. Did Gabriel set this up? Does he know? Is he even Hawkmoth in this universe? When will Alya and Nino get together? Are there other heroes? 
> 
> Your guess is as good as mine for most of them. I am totally open to revisiting this universe for more stories, including a oneshot that I actually have planned and just need to write. I make no promises, as this semester is looking like a doozy, but I definitely have more that I want to share with you all. And with how the fandom exploded this weekend thanks to that trailer, I need some pure lovesquare to keep me going through these trying times. (Come talk to me about it because I ONLY stand for lovesquare thank you very much).
> 
> Thanks for reading!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Comments? Concerns? Come talk to me at somethingvaguetodo.tumblr.com


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